Calm Before the Storm
by Ravenclaw992
Summary: Sequel to "Sunshine and Rain." Emma and Rumpel have finally returned to the Enchanted Forest, where they hope to find peace and happiness with their family. The battle is won and the worst is over. Or is it? They face new challenges with raising their children, one of which may have magic running through her veins, as well as a new threat looming on the horizon. Mostly humor.
1. Chapter 1

_**Disclaimer: I do not own Once Upon a Time or any of the characters involved in the show. ABC is the rightful owner. **_

_**A/N: At last, here it is, like I promised. The sequel to Sunshine and Rain. I played around with many ideas and have a rough idea of what I want to do with this story. With that being said, I hope everyone enjoys the first chapter and I thank you for the support ahead of time. **_

_**Calm Before The Storm**_

_You are my sunshine, my only sunshine...you make me happy when skies are gray...you'll never know, dear, how much I love you. Please don't take my sunshine away. _

Emma Swan-Stiltskin, as she liked to think of herself, sang quietly to the baby in her arms, lulling her to sleep. Mary's belly was freshly filled, the bottle almost empty on the table. Her tiny head, covered with faint blonde fuzz, nestled over Emma's breast.

When she was sure the baby was sound asleep, Emma tossed aside the blue-and-white quilt on her lap and slowly rose from the rocking chair. She was careful not to jostle Mary too much or else it would be another twenty minutes of putting her to sleep. Carrying the baby to the handmade white crib, Emma placed Mary beside her twin, Isabelle. Together the twins snoozed, both on their backs with their heads almost touching. The same could be said of their hands, the little balled fists seeking each other out.

For a long string of heartbeats, Emma lingered by the crib and memorized every detail of her little girls. She sometimes liked to think of them as her "miracle babies." After losing Morraine, she had longed deeply for another child to share with her husband and to fill the gap in her heart. Her prayers were answered with not one, but two beautiful girls. She considered it nothing short of a miracle.

A light breeze kissed the skin of her cheek. Emma turned to the open balcony doors and the wide forest beyond it.

The nursery offered a breathtaking view of the Enchanted Forest. There were clusters of trees and sprawling hills for miles. Bigger than Storybrooke, the people she had gotten to know and fight for were spread across the entire land. It was with great relief that everyone returned to the world they called home, but with it came a new set of challenges.

More than half the people in this land were forced to rebuild their homes, cottages and castles alike, ravaged as they were by the curse. The soil was dry and barren, requiring seemingly endless periods of nurturing and failing before it could produce anything. The winter was expected to be harsh, especially on those that lacked the comfort, security, and shelter of so-called royals. As Rumpel often put it, there was a fine line between life and death for those who were stuck living like peasants.

He had been in that boat once.

Emma did her best to help out, but she had her children to care for and she didn't want to depend too heavily on her magic to solve problems. She didn't want to risk paying a price she could not afford. Every few weeks, they would travel by carriage through the Enchanted Forest and she would lend assistance to the people of this land while heading for her parents' castle.

It was nearly fall now. The trees would begin to shed their leaves and she could pick out the small village at the bottom of the mountain. Smoke curled in the air from one of the chimneys and if she went there she might hear the sounds of daily business transactions in the market and young children playing.

Everyone hoped to find peace here. The worst was supposed to be over.

Or was it?

It might have been a trick of her imagination, but she swore the hairs on the nape of her neck rose. The air shifted, crackling with electricity, and she strained her ears to catch a footfall on the floorboards. One foot, maybe two feet away.

Someone was standing very close behind her.

Someone trying hard not to be heard.

Instinctively, Emma pulled out the delicate knife she kept hidden in her blouse and had the shiny silver blade pressed to the intruder's neck before he could utter a syllable. A pearl of red blood squeezed out of his throat.

"That's three times this week," he groaned, more out of frustration for losing their game than by shedding blood. The game where he liked to take her by surprise and she managed to outsmart him now and again. His brown eyes shined as magnificently as the blade, the specks of gold visible in the bright afternoon sunlight. "I'm starting to think I've lost my touch."

Emma grinned like the cat that's been given the cream. She lowered the blade from his neck and stowed it away in its special spot. Then he took her in his arms and kissed her passionately, as if it was the first and last time.

"You haven't lost your touch. I just know you too well," she teased between kisses. Even if he no longer possessed magic in his veins, their kiss still had the power to make her weak in the knees and to heal her heart. His breath quickened when his lips moved to her jaw and then her neck, her name lost in his moans. "Not too much noise. I just put the twins down for their nap."

Her husband reluctantly stifled his moans and lifted his head from the spot he was suckling on her neck.

"The fact that you are carrying that blade proves you haven't found peace yet," he said solemnly, tucking a piece of blonde hair behind her ear. It seemed that everyone had moved on except her. She was holding her breath, waiting for the other shoe to drop. Nothing had ever been easy or peaceful in her life, even less so since she put down roots in Storybrooke.

"Excuse me for being cautious," she said, harsher than she intended. To her regret, he winced. Taking her hands in his, he brought them to his lips.

"It's alright to be cautious. You and I both know the future can be unpredictable. There is a point, however, when you stop living and you start fearing the future for no valid reason. Until something happens...try to be happy."

He bent his head to kiss her forehead and accompanied her in looking out over the Enchanted Forest. Deep down, she knew he was right. Living in fear of what may come wasn't living at all. It wasn't fair to her husband or her children. Everything would be alright. There was no reason to be afraid.

Then why did this feel like the calm before the storm?

"Do you think Henry and Bae will bring anything back from their camping trip?" Rumpel asked, none-too-subtly changing the subject.

It was Henry's way of bonding with Bae lately: taking afternoon-long trips into the woods and learning how to hunt, fish, shoot an arrow from a bow, _survive. _It was like a camping trip to Henry. Occasionally, Charming would go with them and let Henry handle his sword. It was part of his early training to become a knight for Charming and Snow's personal guard.

"If they do, you'll probably be the first to know," she replied, taking comfort in the feel of Rumpel's arms wrapping around her waist. His lips brushed the lobe of her ear.

"That's not true. The one Henry will run to first to share his acheivement is you. You're his mother," he said.

Emma sensed that Henry's relationship with Rumpel was growing stronger than Rumpel let on. Just last night at dinner, Henry asked for the butter and did that strange arm-flourish Rumpel used to do. _Next he'll giggle like an imp. Yikes. _

"I think it's something he would be proud to share with you." Rumpel buried his nose in her head of curls.

"Why don't we bet on it? Say, the last piece of that chocolate cream pie from dinner," he suggested. Emma playfully rolled her eyes. Knowing her husband had a sweet tooth like a child, she usually left the last piece of dessert for him anyway.

"Deal," she agreed. She turned in his arms, her hands running up his back as she sealed the deal with a kiss. On cue, the doors of the castle burst open downstairs and she heard the sound of feet running up the stairs.

"_Dad! Mom! _You won't believe what we did!" Henry's excited shouts rang down the halls. She would have to find him before he found them and woke the twins.

"I swear I didn't kill Bambi," Bae added half-jokingly. Emma gazed up into Rumpel's eyes and cocked an eyebrow, silently passing on the message _I told you so. _

"Don't worry. I'll save the last piece for you," she promised, patting his chest reassuringly. The tip of his tongue darted out over the bottom of his lip and she wondered if he could taste that pie already. He looked like she just vowed to give him her kidney.

"You're too good to me...and hazardous to my diet." She raised her chin to claim his mouth again, but the sudden ear-splitting shriek of one of the twins split the air. Emma moaned and let her head fall to Rumpel's shoulder. "I'll get her."

"No, no, I've got it," she insisted and went to check on Mary. "You go get your dessert and entertain the boys."

Rumpel proved to be a decent father with the way he handled the twins, always delicate and devoted, but she also wanted to give him a chance to be with Henry and Bae. Emma bent over the crib to examine Mary, whose face was red and scrunched up in anger. She scooped her up and took ahold of the baby's hand.

"Rumpel," she called out. Luckily, he had only just reached the threshold. When she glanced up, she felt the concern wash over her. "Mary's hand is frozen."

There was a slight draft throughout the castle and the balcony doors were open, but it wasn't that cold. She always made sure to bundle up the babies in their baby blankets during their nap. When Emma traced Mary's clenched fist, it was like someone had held it down in ice water.

Rumpel hurried to her side and felt it for himself. Then, with furrowed brows, he reached into the crib to touch Isabelle's hand. Isabelle remained snoozing and her hand was warmer than Mary's.

How peculiar.

With ease, Rumpel pried open Mary's fist and found a white layer of frost coating her fingers and palm. It melted away as any snow would, but it should not have been there at all. Once Emma might have worried that her magic had slipped her control, but she had practiced too much with it since tapping into it.

"What could have caused that? She was just sound asleep and holding her sister's hand..." Emma was helpless to puzzle it out. She looked from Mary to Isabelle, one upset and red as a tomato, the other oblivious to the world.

The wheels spun in Rumpel's head. He put two fingers in Isabelle's fist and closed his eyes, falling into deep concentration. When he pulled back his fingers, there was a dusting of frost on the tips. It melted quickly, until there was only a teardrop to prove it had been there at all.

Emma flashed back to the night she birthed the twins, when the candles in the castle went out for a moment when Isabelle came into the world.

"Isn't it obvious, dear?" Despite his newfound discovery, Rumpel appeared grim. The teardrop slid over his finger, leaving a wet trail on his skin. "Isabelle did it."

...


	2. Chapter 2

_**A/N: Sorry if this chapter took a little longer to upload. It took me longer than I expected to write it. I hope everyone enjoys it. **_

Magic was like any dominant trait in a bloodline-it was inheritable. Some children were born with blue eyes, others were born with the ability to literally bring the house down. Emma had been a true love baby, but she couldn't recall any instance where she performed magic.

"It isn't unheard of," Jefferson explained, lounging back in Rumpel's favorite chair at the dining table, feet propped up on the table, a teacup balanced in his hands. They had called him over for a second opinion. It was only because of Emma's restraint that Rumpel didn't light Jefferson's bottom on fire-the old-fashioned way, of course-to get him out of that chair. He sure did pout, though.

Emma tried to concentrate less on her husband's childish tendencies and more on what Jefferson was telling them.

"Especially for babies born of true love," he continued. One of his fingers let go of the teacup and pointed to Emma. "Even you, Emma, probably showed early signs of magic."

Emma gave him a doubtful look.

"Wouldn't I remember if I did? You forget it took Henry almost a year to convince me the curse was real. After your little kidnapping stunt, that is."

The minute those words left her lips, Emma wished she could suck them back in. Jefferson nearly dropped his teacup. He didn't like to be reminded of that incident. She knew he still felt guilty for what happened to Morraine. Even Rumpel stopped pouting and grimaced at the floor.

Jefferson rushed on before she could properly apologize for ripping open old wounds.

"Not necessarily. You could have been a baby at the time, with much less control over your power. Babies are more sensitive to the world than adults and they tend to react strongly. You know...violent changes in weather when you were angry, a bright flash of light when you were happy."

Come to think of it, it did rain a lot whenever she threw a tantrum as a child. She just never connected it to the possibility of magic. Since there were so few times where she had been happy, she never noticed the world sparkle.

"I was a true love baby...but nobody wanted me. Maybe that's why my first foster family gave me back when I was three. I had done something unnatural and they were expecting their first child. A normal child," she said mournfully. Stepping up to her side, Rumpel massaged her tense shoulders. His lips nuzzled a particularly sweet spot under her jaw.

He didn't have to say anything for her to decipher what he was thinking. This was where she belonged. She had a beautiful home, her family, plenty of healthy, strong children.

"So what do we do about Isabelle?" Emma asked. Beyond the window, in the garden, she heard the shrill bubble of laughter from one of the twins. Currently Belle, Henry, Grace, and Bae were keeping them preoccupied.

What would it mean if Isabelle displayed episodes of magic without realizing what she was doing? What if she ended up hurting her sister, her parents, or even herself?

Rumpel's hands slowed in kneading the space between Emma's shoulders as he awaited Jefferson's response.

"I'm sure it'll be fine," he said, waving it away with his hand. "I'm not saying it'll be a breeze, but you two can handle it. After all, she's being raised by the savior and a man that's got it in good with death enough to cheat it several times over."

If she didn't know any better, she'd say she detected a hint of jealousy coming from Jefferson. She was about to mention the scar around his neck, his own near-death experience, but that was something else Jefferson didn't want to talk about.

"Relax, sweetheart," Rumpel said in the shell of her ear. It sounded faint, more like he was trying to convince himself. "It's not like she'll be dropping a house on her sister or lifting this one into the sky. She can't do that, right?"

He checked with Jefferson over her shoulder. Jefferson, who was tossing back the remaining tea in his cup like it was a shot of whiskey. What did Rumpel put in that stuff? _Over a year married and he still won't let me in on the secret ingredient. _

"Not that I'm aware of," he said, shrugging. Perfectly calm, as if they had inquired whether there would be rain this afternoon. It didn't inspire much confidence. "I can assure you that she isn't about to cast some evil, heart-ripping curse. Maybe you'll wake up one morning with a bad case of acne or the walls splattered with polka-dots. No big deal."

Emma glanced at Rumpel from the corner of her eye. Already he was patting his face in case any ugly red splotches decided to crop up. After being the Dark One for centuries, supposedly with scales, he treated his skin better than any woman.

_What about the frost? _She wondered, recalling the fine white layer of ice on Mary's hand. _I have a feeling winter is coming sooner than we expected. We'll wake up to a winter wonderland-inside the castle. _

"What about Mary?" She asked instead. "Is it just one twin with magic? Or both?" As far as Emma could tell, only Isabelle showed signs of magic. Jefferson set his empty teacup on the table and ran his tongue over his gums to savor the taste of the tea.

"How should I know? There isn't exactly a professional test for this kind of thing. Magic is sneakier than a virus. For all I know, it could be dormant inside Mary until she's older. Keep an eye on your kids. Believe it or not, I have faith in your parenting abilities."

Emma felt a wave of warmth spread through her chest in light of Jefferson's compliment. She didn't know whether she'd consider herself a "good" parent yet, but she could not deny that she put her heart and soul into it. Rumpel simply snorted. He must still be bothered about the chair.

After this, she wouldn't be surprised if he embroidered his name into it, for the purpose of eternal dibs.

Jefferson rose from the chair, allowing Rumpel to relax. Together, the three of them went out to the gardens. This was the place where she married her husband a second time, to officially become the wife of Rumpelstiltskin. For a moment, a pleasant smile spread over her face as she remembered it, joined with the sensation of her husband's palm on her back.

In the center of the garden, among the roses, Belle, Bae, Grace, and Henry occupied a stone bench. They took turns holding the twins and making funny faces to amuse them. Belle cradled Isabelle in her arms, who kept reaching for the golden teardrop necklace that hung from Belle's neck. Henry spoke softly to Mary before letting Bae hold her. Grace whispered something to Henry and he blushed.

It was too wonderful a sight to disturb, so the three of them watched from a distance for a few more seconds. A startling thought popped into Emma's head and she nudged Jefferson in the ribs.

"Belle seems to be pretty good with kids," she hinted. He replied with a barely audible _m-hm, _his focus trained on his wife. Jefferson and Belle had gotten married not too long ago and appeared to be stuck in the honeymoon phase. "So, are you thinking of having any?"

She had never seen Jefferson turn beat-red so fast.

"Any what?" She gave him a stony look. _Puppies, _she thought sarcastically. The only abundance of puppies in this world would come from Goldie and Pongo. Luckily, it was Archie's weekend with the dogs.

"I think what my wife is implying," Rumpel said stiffly, his gaze burning holes into the ground, "is that you and Belle have plans to pop out a child in the future." It was then that she noticed Rumpel was red above the collar. It probably wasn't easy for him to consider his old flame having children with one of his old friends.

Oops.

"Um...well...I...we haven't exactly..." Jefferson stuttered, his mind jumbled by too many personal thoughts.

Isabelle took it upon herself to interrupt their awkward moment with a sharp cry. It was one of her angry, red-faced cries, which meant she was either hungry or needed to have her diaper changed. Belle lifted Isabelle and her nose scrunched when she caught a whiff of Isabelle's odor.

"Um..." Belle looked up at Emma and held the back of her hand to her nose. "I think someone needs to be changed."

Isabelle's cries grew more insistent every minute as Emma crossed the garden to pick her up. Out of nowhere, the skies opened up and rain poured down over their heads, soaking them to the bone. Only Jefferson tilted his head back and spread his arms to embrace the downpour.

"I told you so," he said.

...

In the following week, Emma and Rumpel made a trip to Snow and Charming's castle. The children accompanied them, with Henry's face pressed to the window as they rode through the forest. Thankfully, Isabelle hadn't shown many signs of magic since the day it rained. Rumpel theorized that it must come and go depending on the strength of her emotions.

In any case, Emma was due for a mother-daughter talk.

Along the way, Emma met some of the people she once knew in Storybrooke. They greeted her warmly, but their living conditions were often anything but desolate.

In some parts of the land, ogres ran amok, bringing destruction in their wake. They had roamed this land freely after the curse swept everyone away and did not like being pushed back. Whole sections of earth had been uprooted, newly built houses were crushed, lives were lost. According to Rumpel, they might be on the brink of another Ogre War if it didn't stop.

It tore Emma's heart out of her chest to witness so many people suffering while her family was cozy and safe in the Dark Castle. She even offered them a place in the castle if they wanted it. Rumpel wasn't fond of turning the castle into an inn, but one look from Emma made him swallow his protests.

"Can't we play a game of Marco-Polo and lure the ogres off a cliff?" Emma asked, worn and bitter from the ruin she witnessed. She had done all she could with magic to repair the houses that were destroyed, but it didn't make up for the families torn apart. Beside her in the carriage, Rumpel bobbed Mary in his arms and tossed her an amused look.

"Be sure to mention that plan the next time someone in the Enchanted Forest calls a meeting," he mumbled, just loud enough for her to hear. Emma tilted back Isabelle's bottle, much to her dismay, and sent her husband a dark glare. Henry and Bae's eyes flickered back and forth between their parents, wondering what would happen. "I was supporting you. Honest. I'll even offer myself up as the bait. Apple in my mouth and all."

_At least he's smart enough to know when he's in trouble. _

Isabelle was growing restless and on the verge of crying, so Emma placed the bottle to her mouth again. Magic always happened when she cried. Cramped in this carriage, they'd probably get swept off to Wonderland.

"So, Papa, I take it that if you wrote a handbook on good husbandry, your first advice would be to get used to saying _yes, dear_?" Bae teased, seated across from his father. Emma watched Rumpel carefully. And he knew she was watching.

"Grown or not, I can still make you walk," Rumpel warned. Everyone in the carriage knew it was an empty threat, but Emma reflected on how close they were to the castle. A few more minutes, maybe less. "To answer your question, yes, that would be a useful lesson to learn. Wives can make your life heavenly or miserable. Men may believe they hold the power in the household, but the women are not to be underestimated. Another lesson: your mother knows best."

Emma felt a pinch of sadness for Rumpel, who supposedly never knew his mother. To hear him tell it, his father always claimed that Rumpel's mother died bringing him into the world. It was futile to blame himself for it, but she knew Rumpel felt a little guilty for being part of the reason why he would never meet his mother.

She reached out and patted Rumpel on the knee, to show she understood how he felt about it. To show he wasn't alone. Shifting the baby into his other arm, he placed his hand over hers, trapping it there on his knee. _I understand, _his gentle caress told her.

The carriage hit a bump and jostled, making everyone bounce out of their seats. Mary started to wail. Rumpel let go of Emma's hand in favor of brushing his knuckle over Mary's button nose and cooing softly to her: _Shh, Sunshine, your Papa's here. You're safe in my arms._

In no time at all, Mary had stopped crying, rocking peacefully in Rumpel's arms.

When they finally reached the castle, the gray, ravaged land transformed into something beautiful. The sky was clear and blue, unmarred by even a single cloud, dark or otherwise. As the carriage crossed the long bridge, the castle soared high into the sky, a marvelous golden structure sitting comfortably on the water.

In one of the balconies, Emma thought she saw her mother, clad in a white gown. A second later, she disappeared, no doubt running as fast as her legs could carry her in order to welcome them.

Emma was the first out of the carriage. With the baby still tucked in the crook of her arm, she stretched one arm at a time above her head and then stretched her legs. It was so good to have fresh air and freedom to move. A deep moan issued from her throat as her muscles uncoiled.

"Now if only you moaned that way when we're alone," Rumpel whispered in her ear, so no one else would be able to hear.

For that dirty remark, she punched him in the chest. Not too hard, just enough for him to get the message. There were young children in earshot, after all, and they were more observant than Rumpel gave them credit for. She thought about promising him that she would make their alone time special, if only to prove him wrong, but of course that would be playing right into his hands. That smirk said it all.

The doors of the castle opened wide. Both Snow and Charming emerged into the sunlight to greet them. Emma took turns hugging her parents before they moved on to the twins, Henry, Bae, and finally Rumpel.

Her parents and her husband exchanged respectful nods. They were on good terms, but they still had their boundaries. No hugs, no slaps on the back, no fist bumps, nothing of the sort.

"Good news, Henry. Today you'll get to hold a real sword," Charming announced, gesturing to the sword that was sheathed on his hip. While Henry's eyes flew open in excitement, Emma, Rumpel, and Bae darted forward to object.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," Emma cried out, holding out her hand to command her father to stop this nonsense. Holding a sword was one thing, but what if Henry used that sword? "He's only eleven years old."

"Almost twelve, Mom," Henry said under his breath. No one listened.

"Emma's right. The kid has more chance of poking someone's eye out than playing fair," Bae added. _Don't encourage him, _he meant. Mischief tended to run in the family. Rumpel used the tip of his cane to prod Charming's chest.

"This is why Snow doesn't let you plan the family picnics," he said. Charming treated the cane as dramatically as a loaded gun, raising his hands in the air. Rumpel didn't have magic, but all he really needed was that cane.

"All I mean to do is train Henry to be the knight he's always dreamed of. He needs to know how it feels to wield a real sword. Not just holding it, but learning how to handle it. I plan to keep my eye on him at all times."

Under the pressure of Charming's hand, Rumpel let the cane drop. He glanced at Emma, his face carved of stone, demanding her input. Snow did not appear very conflicted and Henry was so eager to be a knight...

"Fine," she agreed, taking Rumpel by surprise. "But watch him carefully."

Charming nodded and then stepped past them, urging Henry to follow him along the bridge. They were headed for the forest. _If it's trees he plans on attacking, I hope he at least yells timber. _

"Don't worry, dear," Rumpel said, handing over Mary. Emma did a baby switch-off, passing Isabelle to Snow. "I'll supervise."

Before she could taunt him about not trusting Charming, he hobbled off down the bridge. Bae decided to follow suit, probably to make sure Rumpel didn't do anything stupid around Charming. Somehow, Charming tended to bring out Rumpel's jealous side.

"Here-why don't we take the children inside? I have something to show you."

Snow led her inside the castle, which was much cooler in temperature. Emma had only been inside her parents' castle a few times, but she never took the grand tour. Usually they would enjoy their company in the dining hall or outside with the sun beating down on their heads.

Now Snow mounted an unfamiliar set of stairs, all the while humming softly to the baby in her arms. It came naturally to her and Emma couldn't help but imagine how lucky she would have been as a child to have a mother like her. Someone who comforted her through all the downs in her life, who lulled her to sleep with a song and a promise of protection, who never neglected to tell her how important she was to the balance of her mother's world.

Snow stopped in front of a door at the end of one long hallway. The door was slightly ajar. She leaned against it, pushing it open. Emma's stomach sank and then rose again with clouds of butterflies.

This was her room. Or rather, it would have been her room, had she spent more than one night in this land.

It wasn't as big as the bedroom she shared with her husband, but that may have been because of the objects that filled it. There was a crib in the center and Emma could almost picture the glass unicorn mobile that once hung above it. The shelves were crowded with stuffed animals, blankets, and baby supplies. The floor was golden, the ceiling and curtains midnight blue. The balcony had an excellent view of the bridge and the forest. As she stepped into the warm breeze, Emma realized this was where her mother had been standing when they arrived at the castle.

"This was going to be your room," Snow said, looking around the room fondly. Emma did not miss the sadness that infected her mother's voice. "This was where you would have taken your first steps, said your first words. This was where I was going to teach you to walk, talk, dress for your first ball..."

Snow's voice trailed away as she dove into the memories that would never be. Her finger brushed Isabelle's rosy cheek and Emma wondered if Snow saw that wriggling, pink newborn again.

"If you ever babysit the twins, you could put this room to good use," Emma suggested, trying to cheer up her mother. Snow smiled weakly.

"Maybe," she mumbled half-heartedly. She seemed distracted by another thought, her brow wrinkling. "Your husband is so good with the children."

Emma smiled when she thought of how Rumpel often took the twins out of her hands to give her a break, how he took turns getting up during the night when one of them cried out, how he promised them the entire world. She thought about how he mended his relationship with Bae and took Henry in as his own son.

"Yeah, he is. He's more patient and open with them than anyone could believe. Fiercely protective. He keeps telling me he doesn't want to repeat the mistakes he made."

"Everyone makes mistakes. What matters is whether you learn from them," Snow replied in what Emma had come to recognize as her motherly tone. She spotted an antique wardrobe in the corner and wandered to it.

Completely hand-carved, with intricate dark swirls decorating both doors. When Emma ran her fingers over one door, she sensed the old magic that used to possess it. This must be the wardrobe her parents used to send her to the real world, so that she could fulfill her destiny as the savior.

"Do you think it was a mistake? Letting me go?" Her voice trembled when she spoke and she did not search for her mother's expression, too afraid yet to witness the hurt and regret brought on by such an inquiry. She heard it when Snow drew a ragged breath.

"We did what we had to do...to save you and to undo the curse. That doesn't mean I don't regret all the years and experiences we missed with you. Our only other option was to face Regina's curse together. The curse would never have broken and you would not be with us. Charming would be stuck in his coma, I would be a lonely nun the rest of my life, and Regina would have killed you or given you to parents that were not your own. It was an impossible decision to make and it broke my heart to make it, but you were our only hope, Emma."

She knew that everything Snow said was true. If they had succumbed to the curse together, they would have been torn apart. Time would be frozen and she would be a newborn baby until...when? Until Regina got bored and wiped them out one by one?

It didn't stop the hurt from nibbling away at her heart. This was why she never found much use in lingering over what might have been.

Snow kept smiling down at Isabelle in her arms. From the right angle, Emma thought she glimpsed a tear welling up in the corner of Snow's eye.

"I want another chance," she whispered, more to herself than the baby or even Emma. "I see how happy you are...I...I want another child."

Snow closed her eyes, almost in shame. The revelation hung heavily between them, even though this wasn't the first time Emma heard something of the sort from her mother. Before, Snow had merely expressed a fleeting interest in the idea of _what if. _Now it was something she sincerely wanted to be true.

"So have one," Emma told her rather calmly. If her parents wanted a second child, it wouldn't be fair of her to stand in their way. It was a missed opportunity that they wanted; she saw it in their eyes whenever they saw how she handled Mary, Isabelle, and Henry. Snow simply shook her head.

"You say that, but I don't know if you really mean it. This will change everything. The last thing I ever want is for you to feel forgotten or shoved into second place. Nothing could be further from the truth."

Emma heard this before, too. Both her parents were searching for that second chance of happiness, but were also afraid that Emma would feel she was being replaced. That she would be resentful of the fact that a child was having everything she missed out on.

"Relax. I gave it a lot of thought lately. Rumpel says this is the time for peace and happiness, not regret. So, if having another child will make you two happy, then I say go for it," Emma reassured her mother, even reaching out to squeeze her hand. Snow tilted her head thoughtfully.

"You don't agree with Rumpelstiltskin?"

Emma bit down on the inside of her cheek. She faced the window and stared out at the forest without seeing it, thinking instead of the ogres that infested the land. A shiver skated down her neck-something was bound to go wrong.

"You have that look in your eye," Snow added. "The same one Charming said I had after our second wedding, when Regina threatened the land with her curse. You're waiting for the worst to happen."

Emma curled her baby tighter in her arms, closer to her heart, as though shielding her from the world and its dangers.

"I just have this terrible feeling...it's not over yet."

...

She stood in the center of the floor and stared down at it intently from underneath the hood of an emerald cloak. Dozens of deep red curls spiraled out from under the hood, framing a hard, pale, unpleasant face. The floor was much more than a floor-it was a looking glass that allowed her to peer into other worlds and other lives.

So long ago, from a weasly man that once hid behind a curtain, she had learned the truth of her birth and the existence of her little sister, all by the power of this majestic looking glass. It became something of an obsession for her to visit this place and to look into that glass time and again, to feel the blood boil in her veins when she was harshly reminded of the bane of her existence.

At the moment, her face was pinched with revulsion, which wasn't all that uncommon. In the looking glass, hazy images of her former mentor taunted her endlessly, causing a sneer to curl her ruby lips.

She had been more powerful than her sister, had so much potential...but then he'd rejected her and chosen her weakling of a sister to cast his curse. It was a great power that her sister didn't even know what to do with. In fact, she had the indecency to take it for granted! While _she _was pushed aside like a worthless, unwanted creature. All because she had been foolish enough to fall in love with him.

_That power was meant to be mine. _

It disgusted her now to see him so human, stripped of all his magic, yet so happy. Reunited with his long-lost son, having reclaimed his precious Dark Castle, and now a couple of bratty kids tagged along. She never thought he was the type to settle down with a brood of children.

Then there was _her. _His wife. His tacky, holier-than-thou, aren't-I-such-a-badass wife. She loathed the way they exchanged secret glances, the way they touched and kissed. Why would he choose her for a wife? What was so special about this one? Was it only for the purpose of warming his bed and breeding his children? Must be.

Even with that small comfort in mind, however false it may be, she could feel the envy darkening her heart.

She hated her. If his little wife was standing here in front of her, she would not hesitate to rip out her heart and squeeze it until she begged on her knees for the sweet slumber of death. _Serves her right. So naive, so much like my sister. She doesn't even know what she's got in the palm of her hand. _

One of their babies was special, she could tell. It possessed incredible power, though she was willing to bet nowhere near her strength. When she was a baby, she produced a tornado that swept her away to Oz. This child simply had a knack for creating frost and rain.

Still...

She thirsted for revenge. Craved it more than any other substance meant to keep her alive. For years on end she had watched Rumpelstiltskin through this glass, waiting for an opportunity to exact her revenge. _He _was part of the reason everything had gone wrong in her life.

If she managed to get her hands on that baby, on that power, took the child under her wing...how satisfying would that be? Turning a child against its father?

_You took away something dear to me, now I shall return the favor. _

She could do it. He was no longer the Dark One; he no longer had magic to defend himself or his castle. It would be cakewalk to infiltrate the Dark Castle and take away one of the things he loved most. Maybe she would even make him watch.

It was tempting and she was never good at denying her impulses.

_Ready or not, dearie, _Zelena thought snidely. With a flick of the wrist, the revolting images faded from the floor. _Here I come. _


	3. Chapter 3

_**A/N: Hello, readers! I know I just started this story, but I'm afraid I won't be able to update for about two weeks. Those of you who are reading my Breakfast story might already know this, but I figured I would mention it for any who read this story. Real life demands my attention. I hope everyone enjoys this chapter and I'll try to update again as soon as possible. (-; **_

Rumpelstiltskin was never much of a singer, which made it somewhat difficult on his part to put the girls to sleep. The time he serenaded Emma in Storybrooke was unnerving for him, but he had done it for her. Often, he would talk affectionately to his girls, tell them some good stories before bed.

He couldn't wait for the day when they were old enough to be excited by his bedtime stories.

He and Emma took turns tucking in Henry and the girls. With his training as a knight underway, Henry often went to bed no later than the twins. Secretly, Rumpel was relieved that Henry went to bed early. Not only did it allow him and Emma to share the night alone, but the boy needed his rest if he insisted on becoming "the best knight the Enchanted Forest had ever known."

"What story shall we hear tonight?" Rumpel wondered out loud. Of course the girls were too young yet to nominate any favorites. He rocked Isabelle in his arms, settling her down before he placed her in the crib with Mary. The girls instinctively reached out for each other. "Ah! I've got it. I'll tell you how I met your mother. Perhaps one of these days, you'll remember it."

The babies curled theirs fists in response, the soft sounds of sleep coming from their tiny, puckered mouths. Rumpel liked to think they were comforted by the sound of his voice as they slept. Reaching into the crib, he brushed his finger over their rosy, plump cheeks.

Then he began to tell his story.

"Your mother was absolutely beautiful. That was my very first thought when I met her that fateful night, on her twenty-eighth birthday. Beautiful, but not in a delicate, willowy, maiden in distress sort of way. She exuded bravery and goodness. Radiant, garbed in crimson leather. My kind of woman."

He smiled as he thought back to that night, forever ago, when he first crossed paths with his savior. That was all she was to him then, but now she was infinitely more. It had all started with the sound of her name. _Em-ma..._

"All I could see of her face were those golden curls. To me, she looked like a princess. When she spoke her name, it was the loveliest sound in all the world. It was the key to restoring my true memories. I couldn't resist saying it myself or telling her how lovely it was."

_ Em-ma...what a lovely name. _

"Then she turned around. I will never forget those eyes. Two confident green eyes, green as the forest, and guarded. Never letting anyone in, least of all me. Suspicious and hard. Those were the eyes of someone who had seen too much of the world, all thanks to me."

All because he had decided to enact a curse to find his son. Emma's happiness and sense of family had been the price. He never brought it up to her nowadays, but he never truly forgave himself for what he had done to her. If not for him, she might have known happiness or family long before her twenty-eighth birthday.

"I had not fallen in love with her yet-or perhaps I had and didn't realize it at the time. Your mother had a unique magic all her own, even then. She was very special and powerful-she still is. Looking back, I'm glad I met her despite the circumstances. Now I have her love and a handful of beautiful children."

Rumpel bent down and pressed a kiss to their foreheads. When he picked up his head, it almost knocked against the glass unicorn mobile that hung above their crib. It would have belonged to Emma, but now she saved it for their children.

"This belonged to your mother, once upon a time," he said, touching one of the dangling unicorns. Maybe one day they would cherish it enough to pass it along to their little ones. For now, they slept soundly. "I love you," he whispered and clung to the thought that they could hear that, too.

Then he stepped out of their bedroom, leaving the door ajar, and let them crawl their way to Dreamland.

...

"Ready for bed yet, kid?" Emma asked, poking her head into Henry's bedroom.

He was emerging swiftly into his teenage stage, with old clothes and forgotten toys strewn all over the place. In the middle of the room, he spun around with a handcrafted wooden sword in his grip. He looked to be in the midst of slaying a ferocious dragon, but was caught off-guard by an approaching yawn.

Just from his eyes, she could tell he was exhausted to the bone.

"No-o-ot yet," he protested, trying to stifle the yawn and failing. Emma gave him a pointed look that proved she wasn't buying it.

"Come on, into bed," she said, leaving no room for argument. If Henry had his wish, he would keep on going until he dropped. It didn't help that his no-good stepfather tended to fuel his late-night activities by sneaking him sweets every now and again.

The kid stowed his wooden sword under his bed and slid under the covers. Emma brushed the hair off his forehead and kissed him goodnight.

"Hey, Mom?" Henry asked hesitantly. She never got tired of hearing Henry call her that. He leaned up on his elbows, his face contorted with concern. "Are you worried about Isabelle?"

Emma lowered her head, her hair partly covering her face. All at once, every worry she had about Isabelle lately rushed to the surface. The tremendous power building up inside her each day, the fits of frost and rain, the potential threat she could bring to everyone around her.

Henry squeezed her hand, comforting her without words. They could get through this together. They had endured much worse before.

"Everything will be fine," she told him, though it came out sounding like she was trying to convince herself of it. "Yes, Isabelle has magic, but that doesn't change the way we love her or Mary or you. Your father and I will always do our best to take care of you. It's just difficult dealing with it. She's so young-she doesn't understand what she can do."

Henry shrugged and smiled considerately.

"I'll bet she has good magic. The kind you have," he said, tapping her hand. It was just like him to believe the best in people. He must have inherited it from his grandmother. For as long as Emma knew the kid, he was first and foremost a believer. _Don't ever change, _she silently pleaded. "Hey, maybe _I _have magic, too!"

Henry pointed his finger, as if he could make random objects fly around the room at will. Emma took ahold of his hand, just in case he could. Somehow, it wouldn't surprise her.

"Sure, kid. We're a family of wizards. Pretty soon, you might even get a letter from Hogwarts." That made Henry giggle. Every day, it sounded more like Rumpel's. "I'm proud of you," she said, turning serious. It was something she never wanted him to doubt.

"Can I show you what I learned?" He asked as his eyelids fluttered.

"Maybe tomorrow," she said, adjusting the covers so he was warm and comfortable. "We can make it a family thing. Your father and I can be there, and we'll even invite your grandparents along. Jefferson, Belle, Bae...hell, even the dogs. Then you can show us what you learned so far as a knight-in-training."

Henry smiled into his pillow. She gave him one last kiss on the forehead and blew out the candle on his bedside table. Like they did with the twins, she kept his door slightly open so that she and Rumpel would hear him call out.

"Goodnight, Henry," she whispered to him.

"Good...nigh..." His sleepy response floated through the darkness. If she didn't know any better, with his breathing deepening so quickly, she would say he was already asleep.

...

It was true that she made a big deal about indoor plumbing when they first arrived in the Enchanted Forest, but sometimes...she preferred a soothing, hot bath and a glass of wine before bed.

Emma drew a bath, letting the water become scalding hot. She sunk into the water until it reached her shoulders and sighed when it enveloped her skin. Her nerves began to uncoil automatically. She rubbed some sweet-smelling rose oil into her skin and the scent mixed with the vapor, filling the entire room.

She stayed that way for a few splendid moments, up to her neck now in rose-scented water and sipping wine. The troubles of the day rolled off her shoulders. Then she heard the door creak as it opened. She knew exactly who it would be, so she didn't bother rising from the tub or turning around.

She heard him deeply inhale the sweet fragrance that carried with the vapor and she heard it when his clothes whispered on the floor, parting with his body. A tender hand cupped her shoulder and she scooted forward in the tub so that he could slide in behind her. Afterwards, she reclined on his bare chest, lounging comfortably on his lap. His hands kneaded her hips under the water.

"How were the twins?" She inquired. It was oddly intoxicating, having a normal conversation with her husband while his hands freely explored every inch of her body underwater. More heady than the wine, that was for sure.

"No rainstorms, if that's what you mean," he said in her ear and his teeth grazed the lobe.

She held out her wine glass over her shoulder and he gulped down a good portion of it. Taking the glass, he set it down on the floor outside the tub. Then he dipped his head into the juncture of her neck and dragged his mouth over her skin, his lips still freshly coated in wine. Under the water, his gentle touch teased her inner thigh.

"Mm..." she moaned. He chuckled against her neck, greedily devouring her pleasure.

"How was Henry?" He played along with this sense of normalcy, all the while brushing his fingers up and down her thigh. It was difficult to remember his question, let alone answer it coherently, being so distracted.

"He...uh...wants to go to Hogwarts," she replied wryly. He let his head fall back and took a deep breath. She felt his chest expand and collapse while he struggled to calm his heart.

"Is that so?" He snickered.

Reaching for the wine glass again, he took another sip, this time licking the wine off his lips. He brought the glass around to her mouth and she shared in the rich drink. After the magic Rumpel expertly performed on her by touch alone, the drink seemed to have no effect. That man knew how to unravel her and he never let her forget it.

Of course, that road went both ways. Even now, she could feel the effect she had on him, pushing against the small of her back.

"Should we worry about Isabelle? And what if Mary has magic?" Doubts and fears poured out of her, like the hot water from the tap whenever Emma's foot hit the spigot just right.

Rumpel made a despairing noise, even as he rubbed rose oil into his palms and massaged her shoulders. Shoulders, back, hips, belly, breasts, and over again. It was relaxing, but still her worries fought for control over her mind. It was a brutal game of tug-of-war.

"The girls will be fine," he reassured her for what felt like the tenth time. _Relax, _his hands commanded as they squeezed the most sensitive nerves all over her body. "One thing is for certain: Mary charms everyone she meets. If she does have magic, she'll be a natural siren. But I don't want to worry tonight. I want us to enjoy this quiet evening together."

He kissed her neck, his tongue darting out to taste her skin. Emma shifted around until she faced him, her legs straddling his waist. Then she returned his kiss, increasingly demanding.

Gripping the edge of the tub, she pushed harder against him, plunging down through the water to meet him. His hands gripped her hips, his accent thicker than usual as he begged her not to stop. They came together as one and it felt good to release the tension in her muscles once and for all.

When all was said and done, long after the water had cooled, she rested in his arms. He kissed her head, her mouth, her neck, her shoulders. Their hearts pounded together, their breath mingling over their flushed skin.

"I can taste the rose oil on you," he said, sucking the spot between her neck and shoulder. She tilted her head to give him better access. "Let me tell you: it doesn't taste as pleasant as it sounds." She playfully punched him on the chest for that remark.

"Maybe you're jealous because you don't have any yet," she taunted. Deliberately, she poured some oil in her hands and splashed it on his cheek like some kind of pretty aftershave. She rubbed it into his skin and then went to work on his chest.

"At least I'll smell pretty," he said, not bothering to hold her off. If Emma was determined enough, she would get her way. Halfway down his chest, she paused in rubbing. A perplexed frown hung on her lips and her gaze was far-off. "Dear? What's wrong?"

The sound of his voice, all at once hard and anxious, called her back. She blinked twice, then fixed him with a cold stare.

"What does it feel like when someone breaks past a magical ward? Say, if they sneak into the castle?"

Gods, he hoped she was speaking hypothetically. When he lost his magic, the wards he cast around his castle dissolved. Emma had used her magic to reactivate them and only she could sense intruders that triggered that magical alarm. _For all we know, it could be a harmless bunny that lost its way. _

"It feels like a pinprick on the neck. A tingling sensation, as if someone is standing right behind you and breathing down it," he explained and tried to lighten the mood by making his fingers dance over the nape of her neck. She squirmed, but didn't find humor in it. Her eyes widened and her breath quickened, in panic, not lust.

"I think...someone is inside the castle," she whispered. That was all he needed to hear. If he asked whether she was sure, he would most likely be punched in the face.

Together they leaped out of the tub, all playfulness thrown to the wind, and scrambled for their discarded clothes on the floor. Never had they dressed so fast. It could be a false alarm. It could be Bae or Jefferson or Belle or anyone else paying an unexpected late-night visit. Until they knew for certain, though, it was best to play it safe. Too many times people had snuck into his castle to slay the beast or steal a magical item out of desperation for a loved one in need.

"You go protect Henry," Emma demanded, tucking away her secret assortment of knives. This must be why she carried them, to always be prepared. She was so much like her mother. "I'll stay with the twins."

It was the best plan they had. Emma was the one with the magic now-she could fend off any attackers who happened to go near the nursery. He and Henry could lay low. Rumpel cupped Emma's chin and kissed her full on the mouth.

"Be safe," he said, pressing his forehead to hers. Then they went their separate ways, running like the devil was chasing them, ready to take down anything that stood in the way of their family.

...

Ever since he was a young boy, Henry had been more of a light sleeper than a heavy one. He always heard it whenever Graham visited late at night and when he tiptoed up the stairs with Regina. He always heard it when she got mad enough to beak something in the kitchen. The habit never broke.

Tonight he heard it when someone came running down the hallway to his bedroom. Henry jolted awake and sat up straight in bed. Through the slim crack in the door, he saw a shaft of light and the shadow of someone's body. Instinctively, he reached under his bed for his wooden sword. It made him feel safe.

The door burst open. At first, the light blinded him and all he could see was a swift, dark form marching to his bed. Henry struck out with the wooden sword as rough hands landed on his shoulders, pulling him up from the covers. The flat blade of the sword connected with flesh and someone groaned.

"Ow!" The dark shadow yelled out in pain and toppled onto the bed. It looked like they were clutching their knee.

"Sorry," Henry said hastily to the man he came to recognize as his father. He hoped he didn't hit too hard. Rumpel patted Henry on the arm, easing his shame.

"It's...alright. This leg has suffered worse. You were only defending yourself. That's not a bad thing," he reassured Henry. When his knee recovered, Rumpel jumped to his feet and almost pulled Henry out of the bed. This time, Henry didn't fight. "Come with me. Quickly."

Rumpel led him out of the room, stopping only to check the hallway before moving. Taking a sharp turn, they started in the direction of the library. Henry noticed that Rumpel's hair was slick and damp and that he smelled like roses instead of cologne.

Weren't baths supposed to make people relax? Only the twins despised bathwater. Or did Rumpel hate it as much as the babies? There were times when he let his inner child surface. Perhaps baths were one of those times.

"What's going on? Where's Emma?" Henry looked over his shoulder, but could see no sign of his mom or anyone else. From somewhere far down the hall, he heard one of the babies scream.

"She'll be fine, Henry, I promise. You just have to trust me," Rumpel said frantically, his voice strained with rising panic. _I do, _Henry thought, but somehow he couldn't make the words come out. Why did Rumpel seem so worried? There was something he wasn't saying.

Once they climbed the library stairs, taking the steps almost two at a time, Rumpel guided him to a bookcase at the other end. It was filled with gigantic, dusty tomes with names that were faded. Other books had names that Henry couldn't even pronounce because they were written in an unfamiliar language.

Rumpel yanked down one book on the highest shelf. He had to stand on his toes to reach it. Something groaned. Henry thought it belonged to a monster before the bookcase came apart from the wall, swinging away to reveal a hidden space. _Cool, _Henry mused as he and Rumpel stuffed their bodies inside. Rumpel held Henry in his arms, standing between him and the concealed doorway.

For a long time, they stood there, hidden away from whatever threat was lurking on the other side. It was humid and dark inside, with only the sound of their breathing in their ears. Again Henry caught a whiff of some rose fragrance on Rumpel's shirt.

"Why do you smell like roses?" Henry asked quietly. It was one of those times when he could not restrain a curious question that popped in his head. Rumpel bent his head and inhaled the scent wafting up from his skin.

"It's your mother's fault. Long story," he added when he registered Henry's bewildered tilt of the head. A loud conundrum came from downstairs, a mighty roar and the shriek of a tornado. Henry forgot any questions he might have asked next.

"What was that?" He wondered, squinting at the bookcase that blocked their way. It sounded like it came from deep inside the castle. Everything went quiet after that, the silence ringing in Henry's ears. Rumpel pushed against the bookcase and it opened easily.

"Let's go find out."

...

It was surprisingly simple to invade the Dark Castle, even with her superior magical ability. No walls of fire, no paralyzing zap of electricity, no acid rain or hidden booby-traps. Zelena was almost disappointed at the lack of a challenge. The only inkling of magic she felt was an invisible ward, about an inch or two outside the gates. It was like passing underneath a waterfall, hardly worth the worry.

They were practically inviting thieves to waltz in. Or was that part of the fun for Rumpelstiltskin? Thieves took advantage of the low level of security only to find themselves strung up by their toes in the dungeons or the unfortunate target of shooting practice. How macabre. She loved it.

_Do your worst, _she dared the little family of Stiltskins hiding out within the castle's walls.

Flinging open the doors like she owned the place, Zelena strode right in and mounted the grand staircase with purpose. Ah, the memories she made here. She was Rumpel's best student in magic and she could have excelled in other areas, had he given her the chance. Instead, he shoved her aside without a second thought and chose some snooty blonde to warm his bed.

She could have had this luxury, but it was ripped out from under her feet, denied her like everything else in her life. _I could have dined like a queen at that table! I could have slept in these rooms! I could have woken with the dawn-in his arms!_

Her rage and jealousy grew with every step she took toward that nursery. This would change everything. They would fall on their knees, begging her not to end their pitiful lives. And she would refuse. It was her time to shine.

The nursery was very quiet. There was no one inside but the two little children in the crib. Two sisters clinging to each other even in sleep. _Well, isn't that sweet? _She thought mockingly, leaning over the crib to inspect the twins.

Now, which one had the supreme magical power? She thought it was the one with the tuft of dark hair...or was it the one with the golden hair? _Better take them both, just to be safe, _she decided on a whim. What if both children possessed magical powers? Oh, the weapons she would have at her disposal.

Zelena picked up the babe with the dark hair. So young, yet so much potential for power. Almost immediately, the baby wriggled anxiously in her arms. When it sensed that the hands holding it did not belong to its mother, it let out a wrenching cry.

"No, no, no," Zelena hissed, shushing it. This wasn't the way it was supposed to work! She was supposed to grab the child, get in, and get out. No alarms sounded, or else she would leave a trail of bodies in her wake. "Sh! Stop that nonsense! _Right now!" _

If anything, the child cried harder. Its pudgy face turned red and Zelena was getting annoyed with it. Children at this age could be so fussy and frustrating.

The glass baby mobile above the crib swayed. The unicorns swung back and forth, faster and faster. As Zelena watched, the baby mobile showed the first signs of frost. It coated the glass, spreading faster with each second. _This must be it, _she thought wondrously, looking from the mobile to the screaming baby in her arms. _This child is a natural, indeed. That's it, darling-let it out. _

The baby cried furiously and the mobile turned to ice. When the frost grew too heavy, the mobile stopped moving completely. Layers upon layers of ice shined in the moonlight. Zelena drew in a breath, admiring the beauty of the magic she had witnessed.

Then the baby mobile exploded into a million pieces. Fragments of ice scattered the room, a whirlwind of glass soaring straight for Zelena and the screaming baby. The thing had no clue what it had done; it just went on screeching.

Miraculously, just as Zelena shielded her eyes, the pieces of broken glass and ice halted in midair. Then they rained on the floor at Zelena's feet. _I could have done that, _she sneered, shuffling the shards away with her boot. It wasn't until she caught movement in the corner of her eye that she realized what had done that. What had protected the babies from being pierced by dozens of glass shards.

Their mother.

"Hey!" That uptight blonde woman shouted. Did she think that was intimidating or something? "Get your hands off my daughter!"

Zelena tossed her head back and laughed.

"Or you'll do what? Throw some tea in my face? Swat me with a broomstick?" Where was her big, bad husband? Cowering in a corner of his castle? Letting his trophy wife do the dirty work? Or was this to appease her? _Oh, dearie, you shouldn't have. _

"Thanks for the suggestion," the blonde woman remarked. Just like that, Zelena was taken by surprise when something hard smacked her on the back. The baby flew out of her hands, but the blonde woman must have been expecting it. With a wave of her hand, the baby dropped safely into its mother's arms.

Zelena was too distracted to retaliate. A second broom joined the first, beating her stomach. The force of the blow pushed her backwards into the first broom, which then sent her lurching forward again. Then came a third, whacking her on the head.

_This is ridiculous!_ With a furious roar, Zelena spread her arms wide and the brooms disintegrated into dust. She set her sights on the baby rocking in its mother's arm. The second one had woken, echoing its sister's cry. Perhaps she would take that one instead.

"Enough games. I am not leaving without these children!" She charged forward, already imagining how she would knock off her opponent's head. The blonde cinched her brows together and used the crib as a barricade. She pointed to Zelena's feet.

The balcony doors burst open behind her. An unnaturally strong wind lifted Zelena off her feet and she sailed out the door, her arms flapping as she tried to grab ahold of something. She landed flat on her back outside the walls of the castle.

_That didn't exactly go as I planned, _she thought, miffed and brushing the dirt from her cloak. She stared up at the Dark Castle in dismay. She hadn't wanted to admit it, but for an instant, her magic hadn't been as strong as her opponent's. All she could do was retreat to her sanctuary and lick her wounds.

...

In the nursery, Emma held her little girl to her breast and cooed softly to keep her from crying again. Her hair was windblown and her nerves were frayed. She didn't know who that woman was, but she would be ready if she ever came back.

What the hell did she want with her children? Did she know Isabelle possessed great power?

"Is it safe to come in?" Her husband edged open the door. The way he looked at her, full of wonder and relief, suggested he knew what happened. "I think the other side of the Enchanted Forest could hear your scuffle."

Henry came in behind him. He ran to Emma's side and she hugged him tightly to her chest. She did the same with Rumpel, savoring the security his embrace offered. He took Isabelle off her hands. Mary started to whine again, so Emma picked her up.

"You said it yourself before: never underestimate someone who is fighting for their child," she said.

"Indeed," he agreed, though he appeared grim, eyeing the open balcony doors for intruders. Emma grabbed his hand, rubbing circles into his palm. Their family was safe. For now.

"Who was she?" She didn't miss the dark recognition in Rumpel's eyes. Or the fear.

"Her name is Zelena."

...


	4. Chapter 4

"So let me get this straight," Emma said, pacing the floor in front of her husband.

She tried to keep her voice low as possible since the children were finally snoozing again. She wasn't about to let them out of her sight. The babies' crib had been moved into their bedroom for their time being. Henry had fallen asleep on top of their bed and she would have to figure out what to do with him before she and Rumpel succumbed to sleep. For now, they were wide awake, discussing this latest threat to their family.

"This...Zelena...is Regina's sister-"

"Half-sister," Rumpel corrected. "Not even Regina knew she existed."

"Half-sister...who happened to be ten times more powerful? And she fell in love with you during your leather-sparkle stage, you dropped her like a hot potato, and now she wants your head on a silver platter?"

"I didn't _sparkle_," he protested, running his palm under his smooth chin. "Zelena's main problem is her tendency to be jealous. Even though she was more powerful than Regina, she envied everything Regina had. My instruction in magic, a promise of future royalty, and supposedly her mother's love. The reason I chose Regina over her to cast my curse is because she confessed to falling in love with me. If she cast the curse, she would need to rip out the heart of the thing she loved most."

He spread his hands wide, encouraging her to fill in the rest.

"If she used your heart, the curse would be pointless. You'd never see Bae again," Emma finished. She turned to look down at her babies. Her beautiful, innocent girls that had almost fallen into Zelena's wicked hands. "What does that have to do with our children?"

Rumpel shrugged. It was a careless gesture, but she could tell just by looking at his tired face that he was frantic, too. The thought of losing another child frightened him to the core.

"Isabelle's magic continues to grow everyday. If Zelena was spying on us, she might have recognized her potential. She saw a chance to wound me for what I've done and she took it," he explained.

Emma didn't want to think about what Zelena might have done had she escaped with one or both of their babies. Would she have left them to die? Would she have used them to cast a curse? Could she have found a way to extract Isabelle's power and bring it down on their heads?

She shivered violently and realized the balcony doors were open. On other nights, she would have welcomed the cool night breeze and left the doors open, but tonight it filled her heart with ice. If they left the doors open, there was no telling what would enter the castle. Charging over to the balcony doors, she slammed them shut with her shoulder.

Of course, it would never be enough to keep out Zelena.

"Tomorrow morning, after I'm rested, I'm going to make the wards around the castle stronger," Emma declared. If it weren't for the children, she would place secret walls of flame over the doors in case Zelena attempted to invade the normal way. Fate would be cruel enough to spite her by injuring her children with her own magic.

Rumpel's expression was grim. He never liked it when she depended too heavily on her magic. She would use every ounce of it if it meant protecting her family. Even then, it would only prolong the inevitable. Zelena would come back, one day.

"I want to stop her before she tries to hurt anyone again," Emma announced, gritting her teeth together. The familiar anger she felt toward Regina was now aimed at her half-sister. "I want to find her and blast her red hair off with a fireball. Or curse her with blindness so she can't find her way back here. Or-"

Rumpel noticed Emma's growing agitation and jumped up from his chair by the crib. He stopped her midsentence, grabbing her by the shoulders tightly. He forced her to stop her furious pacing and look him in the eye.

"I understand that you are hurt and terrified, Emma...but magic will give you more problems than solutions. There is always another way. A better way."

She wasn't listening. Her green eyes blazed with rage that refused to be cooled. Her shoulders quivered under her hands. Even though she was standing there, a few inches apart from his body, her mind was closed and a milion miles away.

"She's out there, waiting for another opportunity to strike. Are we just going to let her do it? She came close to taking our children once-" The pressure on her shoulders increased. His face became pained.

"Don't you think I'm worrying about that? The worst possible scenarios keep playing in my head, each one worse than the last. There is no question that Zelena poses a significant threat to our family...but we must be careful how we resolve it. Emma, if you let darkness decide how you wield your magic, it will consume you. One time will not be enough to satisfy it. Trust me; I lost sight of any goodness I had for centuries."

His agony was raw, his regret genuine. For a long time, he had let himself be controlled by that dark curse, wielding the most sinister magic to get what he wanted, and sacrificing countless lives for the purpose of a dark curse. And he had done it in his son's name.

Looking into her husband's pleading eyes now, Emma gained control of her senses. He was afraid she would do everything in her power to protect her family...and lose sight of her goodness in the process.

"I'm sorry. I'm just angry..." Rumpel stopped her with a tender kiss on the lips. She returned it and almost forgot how to breathe.

"Never apologize for the desire to protect your loved ones. That kind of will is honorable," he told her, tipping her chin up so that her lips met his again. "I don't want to see this magic control you. I don't want you to become a slave to it, like I did. Magic is first and foremost unpredictable."

She promised him it would not happen, but she also promised to do whatever was necessary to keep her family safe and intact. She had spent most of her life alone without any sense of family. Now she would die to preserve it.

"We'll start with the wards," she said, "and go from there." Rumpel nodded his head in agreement, his cheek grazing hers. She brushed aside his hair and her thumb traced the rough pink scar on his cheek. "By the way, are there any other psychotic, powerful ex-girlfriends I should know about?"

Rumpel exhaled softly. His breath tickled her lips.

"Not that I can recall at the moment," he answered innocently. "Unless you consider Belle to be psychotic."

...

"You want me to do _what _now?"

Jefferson gawked at Emma like she had lost her head completely. They were gathered just outside the walls of the Dark Castle. New and hopefully stronger wards surrounded it, invisible to their eye. If Emma stretched her hand out, she could sense the buzz of those magical wards.

Someone had to test it out.

"It won't hurt," Emma reassured him. _I think, _she added in her head. At the very least, it wouldn't cause any lasting damage to him. They had to be sure the wards worked. Jefferson looked like he deeply regretted offering his help.

"Then what's the kid here for? An eye witness?" He motioned to Henry, who was sitting on the ground. A large bucket of ice water was cradled between his legs. Grace huddled close beside him, with Mary in her arms. The girl enjoyed holding the babies whenever she visited with her father.

"He's here for emergency purposes. Say, if you happen to catch on fire," Rumpel said. His calm demeanor was chilling. The bucket jolted in Henry's lap, some water splasing over the rim. Belle stood off to the side with Isabelle in her arms and she stopped cooing to give Rumpel a nasty glare.

"Rumpelstiltskin!" He shrank back under the whip of her tone. Ex-girlfriend or not, she still had the power to tame him with a word. "You can't set my husband on fire! Especially not in front of the children!"

"Can't we just wait until an angry bird dives over your castle?" Jefferson suggested. Everyone ignored his attempts to wiggle out of this situation. Rumpel pinched the bridge of his nose between his fingers.

"Belle, you don't understand. If you had children, you would recognize the desire to protect them at all costs," he said tensely, without directly meeting Belle's sharp gaze. The accusation stung Belle. She and Jefferson had only begun to toy with the idea of having a child.

"Is that how you explain stepping on so many snails?" Bae piped up from behind Henry. He threw invisible daggers into the back of his father's head with his eyes. Rumpel whirled around with an exasperated look.

"I said I was sorry! A dozen times! I'll join a committee to Save the Snails if it makes you happy!" Bae looked like he was deeply considering it. Rumpel could have used his excuse to justify any number of wrongful acts he'd committed in the past, which perhaps was why Belle did not stand down. Instead, she went to stand between Rumpel and Jefferson.

"Relax," Emma told her friend. "Jefferson wouldn't be a major threat, so the wards shouldn't affect him so much. The most he'll feel is temporary discomfort. I just need to know the wards work. I sensed Zelena just in time to act last night. I want to be able to feel her coming a mile away next time."

There would undoubtedly be a next time.

Belle's rigid stance softened. The baby in her arms whined and Belle dangled her golden necklace in front of Isabelle's face to distract her. She solemnly nodded her head.

"Are you alright with this?" Belle turned to address Jefferson. He ran his hand across the back of her head, weaving his fingers through her dark curls. He smiled reassuringly.

"I've lived through worse," he said carelessly. Today he wore a smoky midnight blue cravat around his throat, threaded through with silver. Everyone knew that a scar was hidden beneath it, encircling his neck. "One question: I'm not a threat to you. So, how is this going to work?"

They had considered that already. They needed to make it appear that Jefferson was a threat.

"Catch," Henry called out. From behind his back, he pulled out his wooden sword and tossed it at Jefferson, who fumbled with it. He held it away from his body, as though it were a poisonous snake instead of a fake sword.

"You just want to see me roast like a Thanksgiving turkey. You're too much like your father," Jefferson taunted the kid. Henry and Rumpel exchanged devious glances while Bae shifted uncomfortably behind them. Belle still wasn't convinced.

"You promise he won't be hurt?" Belle demanded of Rumpel. She knew Rumpel wasn't about to make the mistake of breaking his word. The first time he had done it led to the worst mistake of his life.

"You have my word, Belle," he said, bowing his head. Only then did Belle step aside to let Jefferson proceed with this late afternoon show. He waved the wooden around like a baton. Swordplay wasn't exactly his expertise.

Grace chewed nervously on her fingernails. It was obvious to Emma that the young girl was struck with worry for her father. She couldn't say she blamed her, since Grace had also been separated from her family for a long time.

"You'll be okay, Papa?" She asked quietly. Jefferson turned to his daughter, fresh uncertainty flooding his eyes. With the wooden sword still in hand, he knelt down beside her and Mary. He gently took ahold of Grace's hand.

"Hey, I made it all the way to Wonderland, faced down the Queen of Hearts, and made it home to you, didn't I?" Grace nodded hesitantly. Jefferson bent his head to kiss her forehead. "Nothing can defeat the Mad Hatter." The ridiculous name made Grace smile. Jefferson took that as a good sign and got to his feet. Once more, he approached Emma and the invisible wards, the sword held out in front of him.

"How do we do this?" Jefferson gave Emma a long, curious once-over, especially since her hands remained empty of a weapon. She stepped backwards until she stood within the walls of the Dark Castle. He guessed she was shielded by the wards.

"I have no weapon, which makes me vulnerable to attack," she stated. All of them knew that wasn't precisely true. Magic could be as deadly a weapon in Emma's hands as a sharpened sword. She simply preferred hand-to-hand combat. "Attack me. Like you mean it."

Jefferson hesitated for a moment. After swearing his allegiance to Emma, the thought of bringing her harm repulsed him. Then he glanced back at the children and remembered their purpose in doing this. Rumpel might have been an easier target to attack than Emma, but when those two came to blows, it was hard to pull them apart.

"I'm...going to attack you now," Jefferson spoke loudly, as if the wards would take spoken threats into consideration.

"The wards don't have ears, _dearie,_" Rumpel snapped. Clearly he was impatient to get this show on the road. Jefferson inched toward Emma, his eyes scanning the area for a magical wall he could not detect. He licked his lips carefully.

"Just me and my sword here," he rambled on under his breath. Emma didn't move even as he prepared to corner her. He lifted the sword higher into the air, mimicking a soldier about to strike. "Closing in on this poor damsel in distress. I certainly hope there are no magical wards to stop me-_aahhh!"_

Jefferson stopped a few feet away from Emma, but not of his own will. From her side of things, it looked like he ran straight into a solid wall. The wards shimmered. The wooden sword fell from his hand. The wards acted as a bug zapper for humans, electrifying Jefferson with enough power to make his hair stand on end. Emma thought she saw tiny blue sparks on his fingertips. He danced and flailed in place.

"Rumpel," Belle exclaimed in horror, shaking his shoulder. "You promised he wouldn't be hurt!" Rumpel didn't answer immediately, but only because he was struggling to hold in his laughter.

"He's not hurt, Belle," he replied. "He's _dancing_." Belle gave him an incredulous look and seemed to be two inches away from slapping the humor off Rumpel's face.

"Should I throw the water on him now?" Henry asked urgently. Rumpel wiped some moisture from his eyes. He was amused by the most peculiar things.

"Not yet, Henry," he gasped through another bubble of laughter. Striding forward, he reached out to grab Jefferson by the arm with the intent of pulling him away from the wards. _I wouldn't do that if I were you, _Emma thought, but it was too late. The minute Rumpel's hand fell on Jefferson's arm, he was caught in the same electricitifying current, dancing along with Jefferson. The electricity passed between their bodies, occasionally crackling in the air.

Belle scooped up the wooden sword and beat the two men back with the flat blade. Once they were clear of the ward, they slumped to the ground. Their muscles continued to twitch.

"Now," Emma alerted Henry. The kid jumped up and tossed the bucket of water over their fallen bodies. Jefferson and Rumpel's eyes bolted open from the impact of the ice-cold water, though they lacked the energy to rise from the ground. Together they lay on their backs, staring up at the sky like two stargazers, all the while coughing up water.

"My tongue...is numb," Rumpel complained and pinched it between his fingers. Emma was surprised that was the only part of his body he complained of being numb. His leg must be in a bad shape.

"That tingled," Jefferson said, his head rolling back and forth on the ground. A goofy grin covered his face and he burst into giggles. "Let's do it again." _He's gone mad. Well...madder. _Belle handed Isabelle off to her rightful mother and knelt down to lift Jefferson's head into her lap. He stared up at her, mouth wide open, as if seeing her for the very first time. "Wow. You are pretty."

"I agree," Rumpel moaned.

"Hey! I saw her first," Jefferson growled, sticking his lip out in a childish pout.

"Sorry," Emma quietly apologized to Belle.

Rumpel regained his senses faster than Jefferson, scrambling halfway up from the ground. He tumbled once, but managed to get to his feet without too much complication. His legs wobbled and he only took two steps before falling on his face again. Bae rushed over to help his father stand.

"I wonder which he prefers," Bae muttered, wrapping Rumpel's limp arm around his shoulders. "The old limp or the new jelly legs?"

"What's so wrong with jelly?" Rumpel mumbled. His words slurred, almost incoherent. "There's plenty of jelly to go around. Grape jelly, strawberry jelly, jelly pre-mixed with peanut butter...oh, gods, what am I saying?" Rumpel shook his head, attempting to rid his brain of those nonsensical whims. "You did wonderfully, darling."

"Thank you," Jefferson shouted from the ground. Rumpel reared back in disgust and almost pulled Bae down with him.

"Not you! You're not blonde and attractive! I'm already married, remember? As a matter of fact, so are you." Emma wondered how long it would take for the confusion to wear off. Rumpel swayed over to her with strangely bright eyes. "Your wards are stronger than ever. Just extend them further and we'll be golden."

"You were golden once," Jefferson said, waving his finger in Rumpel's direction. Belle smiled at the memory, but Rumpel groaned.

"Don't remind me. I practically invented Neutrogena."

...

While Emma concentrated on extending the wards outside the Dark Castle, Jefferson and Rumpel wandered off around the grounds. Their legs and arms were stronger than before, but every now and again they would stumble.

Rumpel left the little ones with the others. With his head still cloudy with confusion, he didn't trust himself to hold the babies. Even if he didn't enjoy thinking of Belle being intimate with Jefferson, he knew without a doubt that she would be a good mother to any children she would have. She was one of the few people he trusted most in this world and so it was easy to place his children in her care.

"I'm going to assume you have a good reason for luring me away from the others and not because you want to frolic through the flowers," Jefferson quipped, glancing sideways at Rumpel. They ventured into the gardens, where only a cluster of flowers were in bloom.

"What's wrong with my flowers? They don't bite," Rumpel remarked.

Oh, but how amusing would that be? What if Zelena was frightened away by ankle-biting roses? Perhaps he would suggest that to Emma for added protection. Wonderland was equipped with man-eating hedges; why couldn't they have biting flowers?

Jefferson tiptoed carefully among the flowers. Apparently, he wasn't taking Rumpel's word for it. At one point he tripped over his own feet and yelped as he came face-to-face with a bush of roses.

"I've lasted in Wonderland too long to trust roses again," Jefferson grumbled.

"I didn't steal you away for your gardening tips," Rumpel said. He bent down to pluck a white rose from the bush and wondered if Emma would appreciate it. She wasn't very big on flowers. "Emma wants to track down Zelena."

"It's too risky," Jefferson objected at once. He eyed one of the red roses longingly, presumably with Belle in mind. Rumpel picked one and held it out to him. Unlike Emma, Belle had a strong fascination for roses. "She has her children to think about. Believe me; I know how difficult it is for a child to be separated from a parent. So do you."

Jefferson studied Rumpel warily. He must have anticipated the kind of request Rumpel would make.

"I know. Yet sometimes being with your child and doing what is necessary to ensure their protection do not fall on the same path. I'll need to borrow your magic hat."

"No," Jefferson refused. Itw as a good thing he didn't bring it along or Rumpel might have snatched it from his head. He couldn't run very fast, but he was skilled at evasion when he wanted to be. "I know what you're thinking. You're planning to get to Zelena before Emma has the chance. You think you're doing the right thing, but you won't forgive yourself for relapsing into your old ways. You don't even have any magic-how do you plan to take down Zelena?"

Rumpel's resolve remained stony, unmoving. It was difficult to talk him out of something when he committed himself to doing it.

"She has weaknesses. And if I don't do this, Emma might. I am better suited for the darkness. I've spent centuries drenched in it. I won't let her become like me," he roared. Jefferson stole the white rose from his hand before his fist could crush it.

"Think about what you're doing," Jefferson implored him. Rumpel's brown eyes rolled toward the sky, his mind blocking out the hatter's pleas. "Don't go back to your old ways. It's foolish. Your family needs you. You want to protect them so badly? Stay with them and never let them go. The worst fate you can bestow on your children is one where they lose their father."

Deep down, Rumpel knew Jefferson was right. Something in his face changed, his defenses crumbling.

Jefferson understood that it had been hard for Rumpel to be cut off from all magic; he just didn't realize the extent of his struggles until now. More than likely, he viewed himself as weak for not having the power to vaporize any threat to his family. Jefferson thought he was better off this way. Magic only led to more problems than it was worth.

"This storm will pass," Jefferson promised. He handed Rumpel back the white rose. Rumpel carried it with much less admiration than before, the petals swinging upside-down by his hip as they retraced their steps. His expression was unreadable, his dark gaze focused on the glowing horizon.

"Dearie, the storm hasn't even begun."

...

Summoning a tornado to carry her back to Oz didn't wear Zelena down as it might less powerful beings. She returned to the looking glass only a little more shaken up than when she'd left it. The bitterness of her failure cut deep. She never liked to lose.

With a shrill screech, she stormed to the thick velvet curtains hanging at one end of the room and ripped them down. Then she stomped on them until they were covered in dirt. At the end of it all, she lit them on fire and let them burn. She despised those curtains as she despised the man that used to hide behind them. He made a good flying monkey.

When she calmed down, she towered over the looking glass set into the floor and watched the 'Stiltskin family for ages. It turned her stomach to see those two act so..._loving. _The Rumpelstiltskin she knew was cold-hearted, selfish, cruel. This man she did not know. Her emerald skin darkened as she stood there, drowning in jealousy.

How she wanted to reach through the mirror and squeeze their throats, tear them apart. Even that show of power was beyond her capabilities. It was strenuous enough to be able to peer across realms.

With every passing second of staring hypnotically into the mirror, Zelena came to a depressing realization.

There was nothing she could do for now, unless she wanted to go in guns blazing. No, she wanted to take her time in making them suffer. She wanted her revenge to be sweet. They were strengthening the wards around the castle, preparing for battle. They knew she would come back, but they did not know when.

The girl was the key. She would grow and that magic would grow with her. Someone needed to teach her the ins and outs of magic. Someone would have to take her under their wing. Her parents sure as hell weren't going to let it thrive to full potential. Rumpel would make the same mistake with his daughter as he had with his best student.

Zelena could wait. Her happy ending would come.

...


	5. Chapter 5

_**A/N: This chapter took a lot of work for me to write up. Mostly because I rewrote some of it. I would like to thank orthankg1 for suggesting the idea about Rumpel and the Dark One vault for this chapter. I loved the review and the idea very much. **_

_**I also want to thank everyone else that reviewed lately-I appreciate every bit of support. **_

Old habits die hard. Even harder when they were very old, very nasty habits.

He had to do something. He had to find a way to protect his family. Battening down the hatches and waiting for the storm to come would not work. Zelena had the power to wipe them off the face of this world-he needed to make sure she didn't get the chance.

Lying awake in bed, it was a relentless ache in his chest, a terrible itch that longed to be scratched. Sooner or later, he would give in to the temptation.

He refused to lose another child.

But how would he do it? He no longer possessed magic. As much as he didn't want to admit it, he wouldn't stand a chance against Zelena without it. He didn't want to be weak again; he didn't want to depend on magic to solve his problems. He had sworn to be a better man for Emma and his children.

Last time he had magic, he nearly killed Bae against his will. If Zelena ever found the way to control him, there would be no stopping her. She would force him to place his baby girl in her arms.

It was stupid. Foolish. He shouldn't do it.

But if Zelena came knocking on his door now, what would he do to defend his family? Trap her in a blanket? He would be dead in seconds before he could even order her to stop or make her a deal. If she proved more powerful than Emma, then there would be no hope. Everything he ever loved would be lost.

There was no choice. He had to do it. Emma was too pure of heart to bear the consequences. He needed magic. How, though, when there was no possible way of restoring the power he lost? The Dark One curse was broken.

Then it came to him and he resisted the urge to sit up straight in bed for fear of waking Emma. She was spooning him from behind, her arms wrapped comfortably over his hips and her hands embracing his chest. Her deep breaths were soft and warm on his back.

So he lay back in her arms and savored the euphoria that came with his dawning realization.

The Dark One vault. Did it still exist even when the curse was broken? He hadn't visited it in a century at least. It contained extreme magical power, a well of dark, forbidden magic belonging to a long line of Dark Ones. If there was any way to restore his power, it would stem from that vault.

Of course it would mean breathing new life into the Dark One curse, of which there would be a price...

He would pay it. Him and solely him. This was for the good of his family. At the least, he had to try and fight.

It was decided.

Taking Emma's hands, he gently unfolded her arms from around his chest and started to wiggle his way to the edge of the bed. He only scooted an inch or so before Emma moaned in her sleep and grasped his hips. She tugged him back across the bed, her hands sliding once more over his chest.

In the early days of their marriage, she hadn't been the cuddling type, but gradually she grew sensitive to having him close while she slept. Especially when something troubled her in the waking hours.

This might be trickier than he thought.

Rumpel writhed and squirmed, searching for a loose spot in the tough circle of Emma's arms. The movement only made her hold on tighter, her nails digging into the skin of his chest. Her cheek nuzzled his shoulder. One of these nights, he half-expected her to subconsciously rip out his heart in his sleep.

He tugged away from her embrace. Before she could stir, he replaced a pillow in her arms to cuddle with. It wouldn't be long before she realized the pillow was all wrong-it was too fluffy to be him-but he hoped to make a good escape first.

Rising from the bed, he dressed quickly in a dark pair of leather pants and one of his old, favorite dragonskin cloaks, the scales blood-red. If he was going to submit himself to the Dark One curse again, he may as well dress the part. He bent over the bed to kiss Emma's cheek, praying he would return to her with the news of Zelena's demise. He would have liked to kiss her fully on the lips, in case something should happen to him, but that would surely wake her.

"I love you," he whispered in her ear. With any luck, she would hear it in her dreams.

Then he tread quietly over to the crib on the other side of the room to swear his love to his two girls. Henry had moved into the bedroom directly across from theirs and he knew he would stop in to see the boy before he left. For now, he leaned down to press a kiss to each of his daughters' foreheads. He let Isabelle curl her tiny hand around his finger and didn't mind it when his skin started to feel cold.

"I love you both so very, very much. I consider myself lucky every day to have you and I will do anything to protect you from harm. Papa won't be gone long. I...I promise." He desperately hoped it was a promise he could keep. He kissed them both once more to seal that promise.

"And where exactly is Papa going so late at night?"

Emma's voice floated to his ears from the bed, too strong to be spoken in her sleep. Startled, he spun away from the crib to see her sitting up in bed, staring at him with those hard green jewels. He wriggled his fingers nervously, wracking his brain for a reasonable explanation.

Would she ever understand? Or would she say it was a death wish? She had lost so much already.

"I'm...going to fix myself a nice, hot cup of tea. Having trouble sleeping." It was a horrible excuse and he knew it. Emma tossed back the covers and stood to confront him face-to-face. He struggled not to back away when she came within an inch of his face, her eyes scouring his for the truth.

"So you got up, got dressed in your leather pants, said a heartfelt goodbye to your children, just to fix yourself a cup of tea?" _Well, when you put it that way..._

"Emma, sweetheart, it's a long walk to the kitchen. There's no telling what will happen to me on the way-or who will see me without pants."

Emma slapped him hard across the jaw. The sound rebounded through the room and there was already an angry red mark on Rumpel's face.

"Emma!" Did he perhaps take it one step too far with that excuse? His protests were instantly silenced when she jabbed a finger in his face. Unlike his finger, that one was dangerous for more than physical reasons.

"Don't you _dare _lie to me! Not after everything that's happened lately. Try the truth," she demanded. Rumpel rubbed his aching jaw and knew it was pointless to keep pretending. If anything, it might earn him a fireball to the face. He had to tell her the truth and hope she understood.

"There is a vault that belongs to the Dark Ones. Perhaps...I can regain my power," he explained cautiously. He avoided telling her exactly where it was. Only Dark Ones were supposed to know of its existence or risk placing untold power in the hands of an outsider.

Emma narrowed her eyes.

"So you can kill Zelena," she filled in the rest by herself. He did not verbally agree to it, but he didn't deny it either. "You lectured me about using my magic for good when you're getting ready to do the same? Without running it by me first?" He held up his hands to caution her. Also to guard his face from any other incoming attacks.

"What other choice do I have?" It was hard to keep his voice from rising, even with the children sleeping in the crib. "Without my power, I am weak. There is nothing I can do to protect those I love. Zelena will steamroll over me. I need to do this."

Emma's anger softened, just a bit. Enough for her to close the gap between their bodies and run his hands down his face.

"Stop," she pleaded, her forehead meeting his. "Remember what happened last time? Regina controlled you by your dagger. She forced you to throw your son from the clock tower with the intention of killing him. Remember this?"

Emma stroked the long scar on his cheek. He wore it with pride, for being able to resist the dagger's control and stand against Regina in the name of his family. He didn't let himself linger too long on that memory.

When Emma saw him continue to resist, she sighed.

"What do you think Zelena will do if she ever gets her hands on the dagger? You'll be her personal puppet. I don't want to go through with that again. I don't want to lose you, too."

It wasn't on his To-Do list, either. It wasn't pleasant to have your mind and body betray you due to a command someone else made. Rumpel reached up to clasp Emma's wrists, bringing her hands away from his face.

"She won't get the dagger." He would bury it in the ocean if he had to. "She won't even be given the chance to learn it exists."

"You told me you couldn't kill her the day you pushed her away. That was before the curse was cast. Is it worth the risk now?" He could feel himself starting to yield to her words. His eyes rolled to the ceiling as he tried to remain confident in his choice. "At least let me help you. We can do this together."

The thought of creating magic with Emma was more exciting than it should have been. It was fascinating, delightful, _arousing_. The thought of joining their magic for this one cause, of succumbing to the ecstasy of their power, of being able to reach new and glorious heights alongside his wife...it stole his breath away and made those leather pants a wee bit tighter than usual.

In the end, he had to shake off that delicious daydream.

"No. I will not drag you down into the darkness with me. There will be a price to pay when this is said and done. You shouldn't be the one to pay it."

"Neither should you. Not alone," she insisted. Her wrists broke free of his grip and her hands spread apart the stiff folds of his cloak. With his chest now exposed, Emma lowered her head to kiss the spot over his beating heart. He trembled with pleasure, even more when her fingers found the laces on his leather pants. "Stay with me?"

He allowed her to undo his laces and peel the leather pants from his legs. Then she took ahold of his hands and led him back to the bed. She said something about discussing his plan in depth tomorrow, _together_, but he couldn't hear it over the rush of blood in his ears.

The rest of his resistance faded when they fell atop the bed, curled in each other's arms. His lips pressed kisses to the tender hollow of her throat and then slid along the curve of her neck to her ear. For one sweet moment, he sucked and nipped on the lobe of her ear and devoured her moans. Her hands clawed across the clothing on his back.

"Stay..." She begged him, holding him close. "Please...?" He smiled into her skin. He loved that word.

"Always."

...

The love they made together that night was the most passionate Emma could remember. Both of them fought greedily for dominance, rolling endlessly across the sheets. Whenever one was on the verge of winning, the other would simply try harder.

She even dared to use her magic to make him feel things he never felt before during their lovemaking, driving him wild with heat that would not cool as well as a few...enhancements. When she asked him if she was putting her magic to good use, all she earned from him was a string of satisfied groans and his hands twisting the sheets.

Finally they managed to wear each other out and fell together into sleep. In his arms, the nightmares came less often. It was comforting to bury her head in his chest or in his back, to inhale his scent and to feel his heart beating under her palms.

When Emma awoke sometime during the early hours of the morning, not quite dawn, she found the side of his bed empty again.

...

The vault of the Dark One was located not far from his Dark Castle, but far enough in the snow-covered forest to avoid detection by casual hikers, hunters, or thieves. It always snowed near the vault, no matter the season. He thought it had something to do with the forbidden nature of the Dark One curse, bringing darkness and devastation to everything it touched.

It took him nearly an hour to reach it. It would have taken him less time if he didn't almost turn back on several occasions. He felt guilty for leaving Emma's side, but this was for the best in the long run. Zelena could not be allowed to live and torment his family out of extreme jealousy.

Rumpel sank to his knees in front of the layer of stone set in the cold ground that constituted as the entrance to the vault. He didn't care for the mound of snow under his knees-his legs were nearly numb from the chill in the air, anyway. His hands scraped the frost and ice away from the vault.

This was it. If he did this, there would be no turning back. No room for regrets.

_I want this, _he thought determinedly, pressing his hands over the entrance to the vault. That sinister power was already brimming under his fingertips. He closed his eyes and opened his mind to the seductive energy surrounding the vault. _I need this, more than anything. I will pay any price...if you'll only help me protect what is mine. _

The curse fed off wickedness, fury, despair, envy, and every other dark desire of one's heart. The air thickened around him, until it almost choked him. His hands were glued to the vault. He couldn't move them now even if he wanted to. A warm sensation began tickling the tips of his fingers, becoming scorching hot by the time it reached his palms. Still he was helpless to move away. He gritted his teeth and bore it as best he could.

An equally frozen sensation seeped into his bones, gnawing on his muscles and swallowing his heart. That must be the Dark One curse coming to life again, invading his body and subsequently taking what it wanted. The cold drifted downward, pooling between his legs. The most unimaginable pain shot through his thighs and abdomen and made him howl.

Gods, was the curse making him a...a...eunuch? There must be a price to pay...but what was it?

Finally the dark energy released him from the vault. His hands soared away from it and he tumbled backwards through the snow, limbs spread wide like he was about to make a snow angel. Something silver emerged from the vault, spiraled into the air, and buried itself to the hilt in the earth between his legs. Dread coursed through his veins, making his heart pound as he pulled that silver object from the ground.

He already knew what it was and seeing it up close in his fist only confirmed his fears.

The dagger.

The ancient dagger with the rippled blade crusted with flecks of dried blood, binding the power of the current Dark One. Rumpel hesitated in turning over the blade, to see what he had done. Slowly, he turned over the blade and dared to look. There, engraved in the silver, was his name.

_Rumpelstiltskin. _

It seemed there must always be a Dark One in this land. There must always be someone willing to condemn himself to the most unholy of darkness so that everyone else could bask freely in the light.

...

Jefferson couldn't sleep.

He never got much sleep since losing his first wife and having to raise Grace alone. He had always been afraid that something would happen to his little girl if he took his eyes off her for an instant, even to doze. Then there was his imprisonment in Wonderland, the curse, and everything else that took place in Storybrooke to keep him awake at night.

The most he ever got were two or three hours of sleep, even now with Belle's comfort.

After returning to the Enchanted Forest, the Charmings had been generous enough to give him Regina's old castle. They had a castle of their own by the water, Emma lived with Rumpel in the Dark Castle, and Bae insisted on living a simple life in his father's old village with his mermaid girlfriend. So he was allowed to take it and live there comfortably with Grace and Belle.

The castle was beautiful, no doubt about it, but too big for Jefferson's taste. After living so many years in a small hovel with his daughter, the high-vaulted ceilings and breathing room would take some getting used to. The rooms were enormous, capable of fitting hundreds of people, the halls were too empty, and there were too many places he could lose Grace.

The bed was nice, though. A massive bed, higher than any he had ever seen before, with scarlet covers and the softest mattress his back had ever had the luck to lay upon. He now shared it with Belle, who was slowly but surely working to improve his paranoia and sleeping problems. The first night Jefferson slept in that bed with her, he fell asleep the minute his head hit the pillow.

The higher class were too spoiled for their own good, never knowing modesty if it bit them on the rear end. All except for Emma, whose hard life molded her into being too modest to accept a slice of pumpkin pie, never mind the title of royalty and all that came with it. And of course there was Belle, who was more selfless than selfish.

It might be his imagination, but the castle was haunted by Regina's upset spirit at night. The stone was blacker than ever, the shadows crawled over everything, and the fire offered little warmth to chase away the draftiness. And before Jefferson moved into the Queen's former castle, he never realized just how much Regina appreciated mirrors. There were mirrors in every room-bedrooms, hallways, closets, kitchen, even the bathrooms.

There was an entire hall dedicated to thousands of mirrors, of all sizes and decoration, which Jefferson found disturbing. He took down every single one, being careful not to smash any glass in case he earned a century of bad luck. Not only was he paranoid about spies using the mirrors, but he figured he would spook himself if he woke for a late-night snack and his reflection bounced from mirror to mirror on the way.

Jefferson was in the mood for a late-night snack now. Maybe it would help him get back to sleep.

In the kitchen, there was some of Belle's chocolate creme pie left over, with extra cream just the way he liked it. He eagerly uncovered the pie and swiped his finger through the puff of whipped cream on top, popping the finger in his mouth to enjoy the sweetness. _Mmm...just what I need..._

Lost in sugary bliss, it took Jefferson a moment to notice the subtle creak of a footfall behind him. Someone was here, in the castle. By the sound of it, they were struggling to hide their footsteps. Unfortunately for the intruder, Jefferson's long-term paranoia meant he was accustomed to straining his hearing for the slightest shift in his environment.

He dipped his finger again, as if going for another streak of cream. Instead, he grabbed up the knife that was still wedged into the pie. Jefferson spun around, but the knife flew out of his hand, clattering somewhere in the shadows.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you, dearie. Where are your manners?" That devilish imp was talking about more than the knife. His eyes dropped to Jefferson's hand, his fingers coated in cream. Amber eyes, snake-like, glinting with madness...

"What are you doing here? And what happened to your face?"

Rumpel frowned and traced a hand over his jaw. His skin had returned to the sickly, scaly complexion he had as the Dark One, while his hands sprouted grisly black nails. _He didn't...he wouldn't..._On the heels of that thought: _he would. If he was desperate enough. _

"I got a makeover. What do you think?"

The biting sarcasm stung Jefferson worse than if the imp actually hit him. It was a far cry from the reasonable yet troubled man he spoke with earlier that day. Rumpel glided to his side and helped himself to a finger of cream. Jefferson noticed that both Rumpel's legs were sturdy and strong.

Who needs a cane when you have magic to solve all your problems?

"Where is Belle?" Rumpel inquired. In this state of mind, Jefferson wouldn't let the imp anywhere near Belle. It was obvious that he had magic again. How he accomplished such a feat, Jefferson didn't want to know. It would devastate Belle to know the man she once loved and fought for had relapsed this way. And what about Emma?

"She's sleeping," Jefferson barked. If Rumpel noticed the tension, nothing in his golden-gray face betrayed it. "If you wish to see her, you can come back tomorrow-"

Rumpel waved his hand impatiently. A few drops of cream flew off his nails and splattered on Jefferson's cheek.

"I'm not here for _her_, though I'm grateful for the invitation." Even the way Rumpel spoke now reminded Jefferson of that dark being from long ago. His R's rolled off his tongue in a thick, throaty purr, and his laugh was shrill and hollow. "No need to wake our sleeping beauty."

As he said it, Rumpel's hand gave a small wave off to the side. Magic pulsed through the air, making the hairs on the back of Jefferson's neck stand on end. He had the fleeting urge to check on Belle, but he didn't feel right in turning his back on Rumpel when he was acting like this. He doubted Rumpel would ever harm Belle deliberately, but he seemed drunk with power. It was the euphoria of having magic pumping through his veins again.

"_Your _sleeping beauty is at your castle. Probably debating which side of your face to punch when you get home," Jefferson argued.

"Whoops, too late," Rumpel shrieked, motioning once more to his jaw. Jefferson didn't know what he was supposed to be seeing. If Emma did hit Rumpel already, the Dark One curse most likely healed it.

Another high-pitched giggle fell from his mouth, wiggling its way into Jefferson's ears. He was starting to remember why he never stayed for tea back when he worked for Rumpel. That laugh.

"You never answered my question. Why are you here? And don't say it's because of the dessert-give me that!" Jefferson snatched up the remains of the pie and held it out of Rumpel's reach. The imp pouted. As far as Jefferson was concerned, Rumpel didn't deserve any pie tonight.

"I need your hat," Rumpel said. He held out his hand as if expecting Jefferson to give it up then and there. _Not this again, _Jefferson inwardly groaned. Did Rumpel ever learn when to quit? "It's a much quieter form of travel than tornado. Come on now, I don't have all night."

"We already had this conversation-"

He didn't get a chance to finish his sentence. Rumpel waved his hand again and Jefferson flew off his feet, slamming backward into a wall. The back of his head collided hard with the wall, inflicting him with black dots in his vision. He had no idea what happened to the pie. His head swam, battling for consciousness. His vision grew hazier by the second when Rumpel knelt by his side, the pie in his hands.

"It wasn't a question," Rumpel lilted. Jefferson lost consciousness just as Rumpel sucked some more of the delicious cream off his finger. He never budged an inch as Rumpel used the last bit of pie to paint a frothy smile on Jefferson's face.

...

Her Papa didn't know it, but Grace sometimes woke up during the night. She thought it was because of the discomfort of having two sets of memories in her head after the curse. Plus, there was the trauma of being separated from her father for so long. On those nights, Grace would sneak to the kitchen for a quick snack. It was nice to find some of Belle's dessert waiting for her.

Something else was waiting in the kitchen for her tonight. Not something good, either.

"Papa!" She called out timidly. He was lying on his side on the floor, his face covered in pie, and his eyes weren't open. It looked like he was sleeping, but Grace was too afraid to check in case he wasn't. The empty pie container and his magic hat sat near his head.

Grace was frozen in place, frightened, convinced she was on the verge of witnessing something terrible happen to her father again. She did the only helpful thing she could think of-she ran to get Belle. She was the most clever woman Grace had ever known. Belle would know what to do.

"Belle! Belle?" Grace dashed into the bedroom that Belle and her father shared.

Belle was lying on her stomach, her head turned away from Grace and pressed into the pillow. One arm was stretched over the mattress as though reaching for something. Or someone. Grace gently prodded her shoulder, but Belle didn't respond.

What if her parents were placed under a curse where they couldn't wake up? A sleeping curse, that was what it was called. Henry had fallen under a sleeping curse once, same as his grandmother, and it sounded absolutely horrifying. Grace only knew of one way to possibly wake Belle, then.

"Mama, please! Please wake up! I need you!" It was the first time Grace had ever really called Belle _Mama. _She had liked Belle a lot before the wedding-her father made sure of it. Most of all, she wanted her father to be happy again. She was just hesitant to give that title to Belle since she never really knew her first mother.

Now Grace leaned over the side of the bed and gave Belle a kiss on the cheek.

This time, there was a low moan, muffled by the pillow. Belle began to move, rolling over onto her back and blinking her eyelids, ever so slowly as if finally coming out of a deep slumber.

"Grace? Sweetheart, what is it?" Belle sat up and held out her hand to Grace, beckoning her closer to the bed. Instead Grace grabbed her hand and started to pull her out of the bed, encouraging Belle to move quickly.

"It's Papa! I don't know what's wrong with him! I found him on the floor in the kitchen and he has pie on his face and he's not waking up..." Grace stopped to catch her breath. Hot tears began to blur her vision. She couldn't go through this again; she couldn't lose her father a second time.

Belle pulled Grace against her body , brushing back her hair and soothing her with words of comfort. _It'll be alright, calm down, together we'll help your father. _The difference between Belle and other people was that Belle sounded like she meant every promise she made.

With Grace leading the way, they rushed to the kitchen to find Jefferson in the same spot that Grace left him. Belle knelt beside his limp body and instinctively dipped her head low to listen to his pattern of breathing. She placed two fingers under his nose and sighed. Grace hoped it was the good kind of sigh.

"Get the ice bucket, sweetie," Belle requested.

"Again?" Grace wondered aloud, but went to fetch it anyway. Together Belle and Grace dumped a large bucket of ice water over Jefferson's head. He bolted awake fast, sputtering as water filled his mouth and nose. His eyes rolled all over the place before settling on the empty container of pie.

"Where's the pie?" Jefferson asked frantically. He picked up the container and turned it over, as though the pie were invisible and might plop to the floor. Grace couldn't help but laugh. She was just glad her Papa was awake and alright.

"Currently? Melting off your face," Belle told him with a snicker. The cream and fudge dissolved with the water, leaving behind thin streaks on his cheeks. Jefferson's eyes widened in panic as he looked from Belle to his daughter. Then he looked past their shoulders, as if he expected someone to be standing in the shadows.

"Where is he?"

Belle turned around, but there was no one there. She frowned in confusion.

"Who?" She placed a hand on Jefferson's shoulder to calm him, but he was far too tense.

"Who else in the Enchanted Forest has this maniacal sense of humor?" Jefferson pointed to his face, previously decorated with a creamy smiley-face. Belle became grim, her frown deepening. There was only one person she could think of that would do something like that to Jefferson and also spare her and Grace the same humiliation.

"Rumpelstiltskin."

She was going to compose an extremely long, extremely angry letter to him at once. The verbal whiplashing she would give him would be so astonishing that he wouldn't be able to hold his chin high for a solid week. Her frustration only grew when she noticed Jefferson's hat on the floor, brim up. _What has he done now? _

"Where has he gone?" Belle voiced her concern aloud to Jefferson. There would be no other reason for Jefferson's hat than to transport to one of the other magical realms. She carefully retrieved his hat from the floor and he stared at it with fresh disdain.

"To kill the Wicked Witch." _Make that two weeks, _Belle thought and helped her husband get up from the floor.

...

It was never fun landing in Oz, even by hat.

Someone thought it funny to put the portal in the sky. You walked through the magical emerald door inside the hat and the only thing to greet you was open air before you fell flat on your face. That meant Rumpel had to remember to spawn himself a parachute or a soft mattress to land on.

How did Jefferson do it?

The first time Rumpel visited Oz with Jefferson, a few years before the curse was cast, he landed in that patch of overly-emotional trees that punch anyone for stealing their precious apples. Being able to see the future, Rumpel lost any taste for apples rather quickly, but apparently he offended the trees of Oz by landing right on top of their branches. How inconsiderate of him to grab a branch on the way down from the sky.

The trees punched him so hard that he soared all the way to the gates of the Emerald City. He was spitting blood for a week.

This time, Rumpel landed in a pile of hay of his own creation and he followed the Yellow Brick Road. What was it about that winding golden road that made him want to skip his way there?

When he ultimately reached the Emerald City, he realized it was more desolate than he remembered. Too quiet, too empty. No celebrations, no crowd of little green people swarming the road. It was rather easy finding Zelena in the old wizard's chamber. All he had to do was follow the eerie sound of huffing, angry cursing, and rude complaints.

He found her in the center of the room hunched over a looking glass embedded in the floor. That must have been how she spied on him for so long. It took great power to spy on people across realms through mirrors. Her red curls practically writhed with fury, clashing horribly with her bright green skin.

He couldn't resist strolling up the hall like he owned the place, giggling and drunken with his rediscovered power.

"Looks like s_omeone's _having a bad hair day. You'll have to tell me what that's like," he quipped, pointing one sharp nail to her frizzled hair. He patted down his own locks to make sure every one was in proper place. Zelena gasped loudly and whirled around like something bit her. When she saw him, her eyes flew open wide.

Was she not expecting him so soon? Or was there some pie left on his face?

"You," she hissed. After a moment's contemplation, her hand unfurled and a flame burst to life in her palm. Was that truly her best move? Surely he taught her better.

"Now, dearie, is that any way to treat your guest? Here I thought I would be welcomed with tea time and your special crumb cake. Two old friends chatting about the weather, our ex's, and, oh yes, how you wished to _steal my child_."

With every word he spoke, he took a step forward. His voice strained with the revulsion and rage burning in his chest. There were no traces of humor on his face, nor pity. He showed no fear of the fireball in her hand-if she threw it, it would give him the excuse he needed to send two her way.

"You're here now. I can finish what I started," she declared and lifted that fireball above her head, preparing to launch it.

Rumpel instinctively stepped aside and conjured a bucket of water over her head. With a circular motion of his finger, the bucket flipped and the water rained down over Zelena, soaking her to the bone. The flame in her hand sizzled out.

Something unusual happened to Zelena's face. The green skin bubbled and melted off like wet makeup. Emerald drops fell on the floor, followed by thick strips of what he only knew was her face. The cloak she wore began to fold, her body sinking in on itself. A thick black puddle formed over the looking glass. A bloodcurdling scream tore from her throat while her ugly form was reduced to black tar.

Soon she was nothing more than a stain on the ground, her miserable soul released from its human shell. Only her cloak and those silver slippers remained.

"Well, that was easy," Rumpel stated with a loose shrug. Or perhaps he was simply that good with magic. Yes, that must be it. He had never seen someone melt before-or survive such a gruesome fate.

Gleefully, he strode to that puddle of darkness and picked up the silver slippers. Those sparkling beauties were his ticket home. They weren't his size, but he would make them work somehow. It was better than flying around inside a tornado.

_Good riddance, _he thought, wiping his boot over the ground to rid the bottom of Zelena smudges. Sporting the shoes proudly, he clicked his heels and returned home to his family.

...

_**For the record, no, Belle was not under a sleeping curse. Rumpel put her under a temporary deep sleep so she wouldn't wake up to find him there. I mostly wanted to show a nice moment between Grace and Belle and what their relationship is like. **_

_**I hope everyone enjoyed the chapter. (-; **_


	6. Chapter 6

"Home" was a loose term. Rumpel managed to land in the Enchanted Forest, but he didn't return straight to the Dark Castle. Instead, he popped up next to a lake. In fact, it was a familiar lake not too far from the old village where he once lived with his son, during his pre-Dark One days. The sun had barely risen.

Maybe he didn't click his heels together the right way.

A glint of gold snaked through the water. It was only when Rumpel knelt down to investigate that he discovered what it was-and why both Zelena and Jefferson had stared at him the way they had. His reflection resembled his Dark One self, in the days before Regina cast her curse over the land. His skin was rippled, scaly, and an unnatural tint of grayish-gold. His hair was lankier, dirtier, and crimped, falling just above his shoulders. His eyes were reptilian, amber in hue, and unsettling even in his own reflection.

The weight of what he had done was plain to see in his appearance.

He couldn't let Emma see him this way.

"I can't return home to her looking like this," he spoke aloud, to no one in particular, picking at his dragonskin cloak in frustration. He sliced his hand through the water, distorting that gruesome image. That was when it came to him. He didn't _have _to go home looking like the Dark One.

With a flick of his wrist and a pinch of his restored magic, his reflection transformed into something human once more. The only reason he never did that before the curse was because he had accepted his role as the Dark One, the beast of this land, the man who was not entirely human anymore. It was a reminder of the man he had become to save his son, a reminder of the mistake he had to mend.

Rumpel fondly rubbed his pale, smooth jaw. _Good as new. _

_ "Boo!" _

A head of silky red hair exploded through his reflection, startling him so much that he scrambled backwards across the sand to escape it. At first he thought it was a siren come to lure him to his death, but then he recognized the mermaid leaning on a rock. Ariel taunted him with a squirt of water from her mouth. She had been nothing short of polite to him ever since Bae introduced her, but now those glittering blue eyes held only accusation.

It should be him doing the accusing. Didn't she know not to sneak up on magical beings? It was a good way to get a fireball to the face or, in her case, fins. Of course, Ariel assumed he no longer possessed magic, so wouldn't she be surprised to find her tail on fire?

"What are you doing here, dearie?" He asked, gritting his teeth to swallow his rising annoyance. Ariel's fin broke through the water and whipped the surface. He took it as a sign that she was angry, too.

"I always take an early morning swim before Bae wakes up," she explained. Then her eyes narrowed in warning. "Don't weasel your way out of this. I saw what you were doing. You've become the Dark One again. Does Bae know?"

If his son knew, he wouldn't hear the end of it. Bae certainly wouldn't be sleeping peacefully in his childhood village.

All of a sudden, Rumpelstiltskin felt threatened. There was little the mermaid could do to physically harm him, but this was Bae's _girlfriend. _At any moment, she could swim home to their humble village and blab his dark secret.

Rumpel rose to his feet and brushed the sand off his pants, all the while debating how to persuade the mermaid otherwise. He planned to explain his actions to his family when the time came, including Emma and Bae, but he preferred that Bae didn't find out because someone told on him.

"I'd appreciate it greatly if you didn't mention it to my son. Yet. I'll even agree to owe you a favor. That sort of opportunity doesn't come around often." Ariel paid no attention to his negotiation. Wasn't there anything the fish wanted other than his son's heart? A movement to cleanse the ocean, perhaps?

"Bae and I keep no secrets from each other," she said passionately. That, too, was laced with accusation. If he was willing to share everything with his loved ones, he wouldn't be trying so hard to maintain secrecy.

"In that case..." Rumpel gestured to her throat. Ariel's mouth fell open, but no sound came out. Her lips formed several words, probably curses, but they remained unheard. "I gave you back your precious voice once and I can just as easily take it away. Forever. Perhaps I'll render you blind, too. The only way you'll get it back is by being a good little mermaid and keeping those pretty lips zipped." He dragged his fingers across his lips, mimicking a zipper. "Otherwise, the only chance you'll have of telling my son you _wuv him _is by spelling it out in the sand. That is, if you can find your way home blind."

He prepared to snap his fingers, threatening to take her vision the same way he did her voice. Ariel's bottom lip quivered. It was clear she hated making the choice to keep his situation quiet, but she nodded. Rumpel smiled and restored her voice. She dived down through the water, the last sign of her being the angry flip of her tail, splashing him in the face with cold lake water.

He was beginning to remember why he never mingled with mermaids.

Rumpel wiped his face dry with his sleeve. Then he started the long journey home. Boy, his leg would be aching by the time he-

Hold on.

What was he thinking? He had magic again, which meant there were easier ways to travel across the vast land than walking. It was hard to resist when he imagined dragging his sorry leg that entire way. Succumbing to old habit, he snapped his fingers and was swallowed up by a massive flume of purple fog, magically transported with ease to his castle.

The golden rays of the sun had just begun to bathe the mountainside. If luck was on his side, Emma would still be asleep and he would gain more time to consider how he was going to break this news to her. If not, well, at least he had a victory to share with her in the form of Zelena's demise.

Quietly as he could manage, he slipped his way into the castle. He strained his ears to listen for any sign that Emma or his children were awake, but the castle was eerily silent and still. Sneaking up the grand staircase, he first made a trip to the trophy room where he deposited the pair of silver slippers on a pedestal. A trophy for the deed he had accomplished.

Then he traveled to the kitchen and shrugged out of his cloak, finally able to relax. He was home, safe and sound, his wife and children were soundly asleep...

There was a footstep on the stair. It was faint, but he was positive he heard it. Or was he listening too hard and his imagination played tricks on him? No, there was another footfall. And another. Picking up pace. Coming this way.

Emma. It had to be.

Frantically, he searched the kitchen, seeking out something that would give the impression he had been there longer than five measly minutes. With the aid of his magic, he did a quick job of unlacing and kicking off his dirt-stained boots. Waving his hand, he conjured a hot, soothing cup of tea. Bringing it to his lips, the curdles of steam warmed his chin and he sipped loudly.

He pretended not to notice when the kitchen's door swung open.

"I see you finally got around to making yourself that cup of tea," Emma said coldly, striding into the kitchen. The only thing that covered her body was a loose white robe. It made him feel over-dressed, even without his boots.

He made a show of giving a little jump, apparently startled by her entrance. In retrospect, he hoped it didn't make him look guiltier.

"Emma. What a lovely surprise. What are you doing out of bed so early? I would have brought you breakfast," he said, acting the part of the devoted husband.

Balancing the teacup in his hand, he reached for her hip, intent on pulling her in for a good morning kiss, but Emma firmly pulled away from his reach. The first wave of panic struck him. That wasn't a good sign, especially when coupled with the suspicious stare she was giving him.

"Enjoy your late-night stroll?" She asked. He tried to keep his face passive, but the panic was building. "What happened to your scar?" Instinctively, his hand flew to the spot on his cheek that was marred by a long, fresh scar, but rub as he may, he didn't feel that familiar puckered skin. It was clean and smooth. The scar must have healed when his magic was restored.

All at once, he realized it: she knew.

If Ariel swam home fast enough and confessed his secret to Bae, would Bae have been able to warn Emma? He didn't think so, but no other explanation came to mind. He set the teacup down on the table, choking back the urge to shatter it into millions of shards.

"That double-crossing fish. I'll take her voice, eyes, and fins," he muttered under his breath. Emma crossed her arms under her breasts-a protective stance and a very bad sign. It meant she was getting defensive, her walls going up.

"What fish? Last night, Belle wrote a strongly-worded letter that you would have to read while sitting down. She told me what you did to Jefferson and what you needed his hat for. You swore you wouldn't do this. We were going to discuss it, _together_, if you could only wait until morning. You did it, anyway," she exploded in anger. With every syllable, her voice rose until her rage echoed off the walls. She gave him one last scathing look and turned on her heel to storm off, but he finally caught her by the shoulder.

"Emma, please-" He begged her to stay.

She halted in the doorway and gasped, staring down peculiarly at his hand. That was when he understood his mistake. Other magical beings were sensitive to the power that coursed through the veins of other magical beings. Now Emma sensed his renewed magic by that tender touch alone. He lifted his hand off her shoulder, but the damage was done.

"You have magic," she stated. Belle must have excluded that part in her letter. He surrendered before she could accuse him about the vault of the Dark One or pursuing Zelena.

"What else was I supposed to do? The wards are futile. They only prolong the inevitable. Zelena would blow them down and finish what she started." It would only have been a matter of time before she returned for round two. Emma's face hardened even more.

"Are you saying that my magic is weak? That I don't have what it takes to protect my children?" Rumpel held up his hands, praying she would calm down. He wouldn't be foolish enough to advise her to calm down out loud-that only made women even more worked up.

"No, of course not. I only wanted to be sure Zelena never had a second chance. You've seen what happens when second chances are given to those who don't deserve it. I spared you the burden of darkness and I protected what I cherish most in this world. If you wish to condemn me for it, then so be it."

He lowered his hands, ready to accept his punishment. Not an inkling of remorse troubled him when he recalled what he had done to Zelena. It was for the best. His wife and children were safe and he vowed not to regret the means to that end.

Emma grew quiet, her arms falling away to her sides. He could feel her weighing the pros and cons of what he had done. He gave her the time she required to think things through.

"I understand your reason for doing it...I just wish we could have talked about it together. I won't blame you for fighting for our family. What happened to Zelena?" This time when he took her by the shoulders, she didn't retreat.

"She's gone. I watched her melt into a black puddle. Apparently she doesn't take too well to water," he said, shrugging it off. What was done was done. Emma started to chuckle.

"She _is _the Wicked Witch. Same thing happened in the movie," she remarked. His false memories started to stir in the back of his mind, supplying the information from that other world, presenting ruby slippers instead of silver, but he bluntly ignored it. Emma took ahold of one of his hands and laced her fingers through his. No doubt she could feel the magic dancing along them. "Are you going to keep your magic? You could start to depend on it again," she pointed out.

It was still true that he didn't want to depend too heavily on his magic like he used to do. Perhaps it was something he and Emma could work through together, controlling their magical urges. For now, he only just arrived home and he had miles to go to making it up to his wife for leaving without notice.

He wiggled his fingers eagerly before stroking her jaw. She shivered with pleasure as he caressed her skin both physically and magically.

"I can think of a number of ways it could come in handy," he teased. A soft blush rose to her cheeks as his fingers trailed along her jaw to the curve of her neck. Peeling back her robe, his touch dipped between the valley of her breasts, down to her belly. All the while, he summoned a wave of heat beneath his fingers, unraveling her.

"Prove it," she challenged him, her voice already husky.

She grabbed him by the vest and led him out of the kitchen, up the stairs, and to one of the spare guest rooms so they wouldn't wake the children. Now that there was no immediate threat to their family, their nerves could unwind and they were free to enjoy each other's company. Rumpel made certain to fulfill Emma's every last desire, to mend the ache she suffered since his departure last night.

There was once or twice where Emma even suggested they might try to have another child someday.

Rumpel couldn't bring himself to destroy that happy moment by informing her of the price for restoring his magic. The moment he became the Dark One again, he felt a chilling emptiness take hold of his abdomen. He wasn't entirely confident, but he had his fears about what the price entailed to save those he loved most dearly.

He was barren.

* * *

_**Let's just say...Rumpel has a lot of pleasing to do to make it up to his wife. Is Zelena gone for good? Maybe, maybe not. I hope the readers have enjoyed this chapter and will continue reading in the future. I want to thank those that reviewed recently as well-I always look forward to hearing what the readers have to say. (-; **_

...


	7. Chapter 7

"Must I do this?" Rumpel whispered anxiously to his wife.

He stared out at the sea of familiar faces and felt a cold sweat mask his forehead. He was never good at this sort of thing, even if wordplay was his strong point. Under the table, their hands laced together. From Emma's touch, he drew strength.

"It would be the right thing to do," she whispered back. Rumpel knew there was really only one answer she would accept. This was her way of making him think it was his choice.

"I despise the logic you and your parents share," he grumbled. Truthfully, he admired people like Emma, the Charmings, and Belle for always being able to do the right thing when the time called for it. Not only that, but they saw the good in others, even if it was scarce, and they brought that goodness into the light. It was a different sort of manipulation that he wasn't used to practicing himself.

And it often worked.

Sighing in defeat, he rose from his seat at the head of the table and cleared his throat, trying to catch the attention of the guests. A few heads turned, but the scraping of silverware and jolly conversation continued. The babies kept mashing their food without a care in the world, getting more of it on their mouths than in. Rumpel glanced uncertainly down at Emma, but she waved her hand, ushering him onward.

Picking up his wine glass, he tapped his fork against it. When the conversation quieted to a dull roar and all eyes inevitably landed on him, he grew nervous again and smashed the fork too hard against the glass, hard enough to crack it. With an unspoken curse, he set it on the table before more damage could be done with his fumbling hands.

He looked around at the faces once more, mentally taking note of the ones that appeared less than patient with him. Bae, Ariel, Jefferson, Belle, the Charmings. Grace and Henry were too busy sharing secrets at their end of the table. Archie and Red were there, hands clasped together, but they hadn't been there for the worst of it.

Too bad. He'd have loved to watch Zelena take on a fully-grown hormonal wolf.

"Thank you for joining us here this evening," he started hesitantly. The thought of so many people in his castle still made him flustered. "I consider it a kindness, especially since I am not on the best of terms with all of you. I have recently done something that many of you may consider foolish or even harmful to the ones I love most in this world. I did it with the best intentions, for protecting my family. For that reason, I can't say I regret it. However, I do have one or two things to be apologize for. First, I wish to apologize to my wife."

He spread his hand toward Emma.

"For?" Emma pushed him. She wasn't going to make this easy.

"For," he echoed, "leaving her in the middle of the night, even if it was on a quest to regain my magic in order to subdue the witch that tried to tear apart our family. Not only that, but I promised her we would work through it together and I broke that promise as soon as I made it. I am eternally sorry. From now on, I give my word that we shall conquer every battle together and be grateful for what we have after all is said and done."

She bowed her golden head to show she accepted his apology. Then her green eyes darted to their guests and back, warning him to keep going.

"Second, I wish to apologize to Jefferson for showing up at his castle so late and so unexpectedly. I should have written first," he quipped. No one, least of all Jefferson, laughed. "Next-"

"And?" Jefferson cut him off. He was far too smug as he folded his hands on the table ever so neatly and waited. Rumpel narrowed his eyes venemously. Of course he had no choice but to consent, with everyone watching him so closely.

"And for knocking him unconscious via magic. Oh, and for painting his face with the precious pie he was looking forward to cramming in his mouth. I'll buy you a year's worth of creme pies." That should satisfy the hatter. Moving on...

"I don't like your creme pies. I like _Belle's _creme pies. You used her creme pie to turn me into a happy clown," Jefferson objected. "And?" The hatter asked again.

"_And," _Rumpel growled, quickly losing his patience. "I'm sorry for stealing your hat so I could travel to Oz."

"And?"

"_And_...Jefferson is one of the few good friends I am fortunate to have," Rumpel admitted, praying it would be enough to cease this torment. It only made Jefferson grin like the Cheshire Cat. He was harder to please than the twins combined.

"And?"

_ "And will you stop?"_

Rumpel finally got fed up to the point of smashing his glass on the table. Shards scattered the tabletop. Wine pooled over among the broken glass, the liquid bright as freshly spilt blood in the candlelight.

He had the urge to repair it with magic. He even let his hand hover over the shards, but he knew it would be poison to his spoken apologies. Plus, he swore only to use his magic now when absolutely necessary. If his loved ones were in imminent danger, for example. Fixing a broken wine glass did not seem so worthy of life and death.

Emma grabbed his other hand under the table and squeezed it to warn him not to give in to that urge. Everyone was watching, waiting to see if he would do it. Most of all, he was aware of his son's stare.

Rumpel looked directly to Bae and sensed the disappointment in his beautiful eyes. Then he deliberately let his hand fall away. The glass remained broken.

"As I was saying," Rumpel continued, struggling to regain his composure. He dismissed Jefferson in favor of Belle, who sat dutifully beside her husband, touching his hand tenderly. Even she seemed irritated and impatient with him, her pretty lips that once kissed him so gently now forming a troubled frown. He would give her a sincere apology, because he still regretted all he ever put her through.

"Belle, I am terribly sorry for harming Jefferson. You of all people do not deserve to lose another loved one. You have already given too much to fate. You always believed in me despite my darkness and saw the good in me when no one else-even me-could. For that, I am sorry for reverting to that dark being. In your name and those I love, I give my word that I will not let that dark curse control me again. I will use it for good measures."

He didn't expect Belle to forgive him. After all, she had lost enough without worrying about Jefferson's state, too. Not only had she lost the one she believed to be her true love to Emma, but she had also lost her father to Regina. Yet he was relieved when she started to smile appreciatively. It was like a ray of sunlight after a formidable storm.

"I am sorry, Bae, if I have disappointed you by returning to that darker side of me," he told his son. Bae's youthful brown eyes pleaded with him. "Last time I was the Dark One, someone...I shall not mention her name in this household-"

"Hem-hem..._Regina," _Jefferson pretended to cough into the crook of his elbow. He smiled innocently up at Rumpel and, with a flick of the wrist, gave him the signal to continue.

"Thank you, Jefferson," Rumpel stated through clenched teeth. The hatter was one step away from getting no dessert. "Anyhow, someone controlled me as the Dark One and it nearly cost my son's life. I shall never let that happen again, nor will I let any harm come to my family." He couldn't tell if Bae accepted that or not-he was too busy twirling a fork and burning holes into his plate.

"To Ariel," Rumpel addressed the red-haired mermaid sitting next to Bae. Soon she was to be his daughter-in-law. He supposed there were weirder things than having a fish attend family dinners. "I am sorry for taking your voice."

For some reason, Bae wasn't startled by that news.

"There's something I must confess, too," the mermaid said, biting her lower lip. "I sort of...may have...broke our deal. When I went home to Bae, I didn't feel right about not telling him. I couldn't sleep a wink. So I told him."

"You _what?" _Rumpel screeched. One of his constant pet peeves was a customer that couldn't keep their end of the deal. Emma laid her hand on his arm in warning. He restrained his anger. "Good to see that you and my son have such strong communication skills."

Ariel beamed. He turned away from the fish and to the end of the table, where Emma's parents sat close together. A long time ago, he simply assumed they were stitched at the hip.

"Finally, I am sorry, Snow, Charming, for causing your daughter undue stress and worry, and thus creating worry for you. I am sorry if I am not the knight in shining armor you might have dreamed up for your daughter. I am a man that makes mistakes time and again, but I vow not to make the same ones twice. All I can say in my defense is that I love Emma and I love my family dearly enough to protect them at whatever cost. If you wish to condemn me for it, so be it. At least I'll have the comfort of knowing that my family is safe."

He gladly sat back down, finished with his long list of apologies. Snow and Charming exchanged wary looks, then met the eyes of everyone around the table, specifically the ones that received an apology from Rumpel. It was Charming's turn to stand before them and Rumpel held his breath, wondering if he would be sentenced to the mines again. Emma wouldn't allow it.

"I think we speak for most when we say..." _Here it is, _Rumpel thought mournfully. _My due punishment. A damp, dark cell under the earth, giggling for entertainment, feasting on maggot-infested remains..._"We accept your apologies," Charming announced.

Rumpel let out the breath he was holding.

"No, we don't," Jefferson exclaimed.

"Quiet," Rumpel snapped, pointing a finger at Jefferson. The hatter pressed his back against the chair and his eyes boggled as he anticipated something gruesome. A zipper on the lips, his tongue ripped out, perhaps turned into a snail...but nothing happened. It was only a scare. "Now may we have dessert?"

This time when Rumpel pointed his finger, something did happen. The messy plates of food disappeared, replaced with fresh plates heaping with Belle's wonderful chocolate creme pie. He made sure Jefferson's was the thickest, frothiest slice on the table. Everyone eagerly dug in, all except Rumpel who was more concerned with picking his wife's brain.

"How did I do?" He inquired. Emma let him squirm for a minute, helping herself to a forkful of pie. She lapped it up nice and slowly, even teasing him with her tongue licking the cream off her lips.

"Hmm...not bad," she said. Rumpel fidegeted.

"The pie or my apologies?" This was a loaded question. If she meant both, then he was golden. He could enjoy his pie in peace. If she only meant the pie, though, it meant he would be in trouble later and he would never be able to stomach even a bite of pie. He crossed his fingers under the table for luck.

"Both," she decided. He sighed with relief. More than anything, he hated it when they retired to bed angry at each other. This way, some of the tension released from his muscles and he inhaled half of his pie in record time. Jefferson was right-Belle's pies were to die for.

Under the table, he felt a pair of legs crawl up his own right leg. He rolled his eyes and lifted the tablecloth to see Goldie begging for a morsel of dessert. He swiped his finger through the cream and let Goldie lick it up. She was safely home again after spending too much time away with Pongo.

It was a miracle she didn't have a truckload of puppies bounding behind her yet.

"Where were you when Zelena needed her curly top bitten off?" Goldie went on wagging her tail happily and begging for whipped cream.

...

For a boy of twelve, Henry was incredibly sensitive to tension long before hitting puberty. He had experienced enough tension with Regina to become familiar with it, even before Emma arrived in Storybrooke. He felt the tension between Rumpel and Bae at the dinner table that evening, even if everyone else shrugged it off.

Rumpel was more nervous than usual. It wasn't just the fact that he had a crowd of people in his castle. His hands trembled when he picked up his utensils and he was barely able to slice the meat on his plate. His gaze wandered back and forth between the broken glass and Bae. Throughout the entire meal, he seemed distracted by his thoughts.

To Henry, it appeared that Rumpel was afraid of slipping up and performing magic carelessly. He was trying to be on his best behavior, but it was hard to ignore his renewed magic. He knew Bae didn't feel comfortable with his father using magic, because of all the damage it had caused and might cause in the future.

Henry pretended to be invested in the multiple dinner conversations surrounding him on either side, but he deeply contemplated how to mend the bridge between Rumpel and Bae. He even voiced his concern to Grace, but her worry was mostly saved for her own father.

"You know why he likes sweets so much? It's because he could never afford them when we lived in our hovel. Now he's addicted to them, especially Belle's creme pie. I think he might tackle your father any minute," she whispered to Henry, bright eyes glued on the hatter. It looked like Belle was the only thing keeping him restrained from leaping over the table and attacking Rumpel. He had that mad glint in his eye.

After dessert that consisted of Belle's delicious creme pie, without anyone shoving it in Jefferson's face but himself, Henry helped clear the dining table. It was to encourage Rumpel not to rely on his magic, according to Emma. He exchanged warm hugs with Snow, Charming, Red, and Archie before they left the Dark Castle. Jefferson and Belle stuck around to spend more time with Emma and the twins.

Bae agreed to stay as well and Henry immediately seized the opportunity to catch Bae alone in the library. It was where Rumpel had done most of his magic in the form of bottled spells. Old vials still cluttered the worktable, gray dust creating a thick, filmy layer on the glass.

Bae lingered near the worktable, his fingers occasionally flicking a glass vial. His face was visibly strained. There was no sign of the open-minded curiosity Henry supposedly inherited.

"You know, there was a time where I was open to the possibility of using magic. Just once," Bae said without lifting his gaze to his son. His finger tipped a red bottle. It tilted precariously, on the verge of falling over, before spinning back into place. Bae finally met Henry's concerned eyes and urged him to come closer. "It was when I was a boy, not too much older than you are now. I wanted to help my father return to the man he was before the magic. I asked the Blue Fairy for help and she granted me the bean that would take me and my father to a land without magic, where we could live normal lives. That's when everything went to hell."

It wasn't the first time Henry heard parts of this story, but he figured Bae needed to get it off his chest. Bae turned away from the worktable and its bottled potions. His brown eyes scrolled over the gigantic shelves of books. How many of them were ancient spellbooks? How many centuries had Rumpel spent poring over them, searching for the answer to find his son?

"That's why you hate magic. It left you fatherless," Henry added. He knew Bae had forgiven Rumpel of those past mistakes, but those wounds would always be too deep to heal completely. Bae gently took Henry by the shoulders.

"There's the kind of magic, like Emma's magic, that is capable of bringing life and good things. It was born of the purest love. Then there is the dark, unforgiving magic that consumed my father. When he became the Dark One, I lost the kind, gentle father I loved all my life. He became someone I didn't recognize, someone whose intentions I couldn't predict. That frightened me more than anything. When I fell into the portal, when I felt his hand let go of mine, I felt like I lost him a second time. I spent months trying to survive in a world I didn't understand and I spent centuries frozen and alone in Neverland."

There was so much grief and bitterness in Bae's voice that it almost deepened into a growl. He didn't seem to notice when his grip increased on Henry's shoulders and Henry didn't complain.

"He's changed since then," Henry objected. "He fought back against the dagger to save you and Emma from Regina. And he only did what he felt was right to protect us again."

Bae nodded and released Henry.

"Deep down, I understand why he did it. I don't blame him for being afraid of losing us again. I just don't want him to revert to the way he was before. He said all he needed was us, not magic."

Henry realized that Bae was sinking further into disappointment and distraction over this grim situation. He needed to do something to preoccupy him. Henry sat down on Rumpel's stool by the spinning wheel and tried to look enthusiastic.

"Can you tell me about Neverland?" Bae blinked and emerged from his anxious trance. "Was Tinkerbell there? What was it like to fly?" Bae smiled weakly. He seemed to appreciate Henry's gesture in changing the subject. Leaning against the wheel, he thought back to those century-old memories. Very few of them were happy ones.

"Well...let's say Tinkerbell can be as sincere as Snow when she's in her takedown mode. She's just as deadly with a knife as Snow is with a bow. The first time we met, she nearly took my head off," he said and chuckled at the memory. He spent an hour hanging upside down from a tree in one of Tink's handmade traps. "As for flying, it was one of the best feelings in the world. Soaring over the land and sea, light as a feather...I felt free. You should try it sometime."

Henry planned to bombard Rumpel with that request one of these days. Wouldn't it be amazing to fly around the tower of the Dark Castle? Or swoop down over the Enchanted Forest?

"Of course," Bae continued, "in order to make pixie dust work, you need to believe in it and you need to think back to one of your happiest memories. Your soul needs to be light as a feather to fly. It's strange. The happiest memory I recalled was my father when he was still human, spinning and singing me to sleep when I was a boy."

Henry smiled at that. Rumpel might have seen himself as a coward in his human state, but Henry thought he sounded like a caring father whose only joy in the world was his son.

"Were there any mermaids? Or Lost Boys? What about Peter Pan?" Henry eagerly asked, edging forward on his seat. He had heard a story about Peter Pan when he was younger and he wondered if this one was any different.

"The mermaids aren't as polite as Ariel," Bae told him with a shudder. "They tend to drown humans. They really don't like human girls because they envy their legs. Rumor has it that if the human is a boy, they take him down to the depths of the sea to be tormented for eternity."

Suddenly Henry liked Ariel a lot more than he already did. He was glad Bae found her instead of one of the sirens that would drown him.

"The Lost Boys and Peter Pan go hand in hand. They're his followers, practically his slaves, and they're not as little as you might think. There was this one with a stick that was twice as big as me. Peter Pan isn't the good guy you might have heard about, either. He lures children to Neverland, children that feel unwanted. I was too busy hiding from him to ever figure out what he wanted with them."

One thousand questions sprang up in Henry's mind, specifically about Peter Pan. How could he be a villain when he was never depicted that dark in the tales he heard? What about the boy dressed in green garb that made friends with children and defeated Hook? Weren't Tinkerbell and he supposed to be thick as thieves?

Before he could unleash his torrent of questions, there was a small creak behind them.

"Bae."

...

The soft warning issued in his father's voice stopped him midstory. Both Henry and Bae turned their heads to witness Rumpel standing by the library stairs, shrouded in shadow. They never heard him climb those old stairs. Bae suspected his renewed magic had something to do with that.

Rumpel's dark eyes landed on Henry, who was sitting innocently by the wheel, and he forced a pleasant smile.

"Henry," he addressed his second son with equal affection. "Why don't you help your mother bathe the twins and put them to bed? Last I heard, the twins built a snowman out of suds." Henry glanced over at Bae, as though seeking permission to leave or perhaps an excuse to stay. When the silence stretched on, Henry obediently stood from the wheel.

"You know, if you two wanted to talk alone, you could always say so," he remarked and marched down the stairs, leaving Rumpel in astonishment. The boy was far more intuitive than he was given credit for.

Rumpel took a step toward his son. Bae turned his attention away to the wheel, lightly spinning it under his palm.

"I guess you overheard that story," Bae mumbled. Rumpel stepped further toward the pale light, but not enough to be embraced in its illumination. He mimicked Bae's gesture in placing a hand on the arch of the wheel, stopping its movement.

"I did," he admitted, hanging his head. It didn't matter how many times Bae insisted he forgave his father-there would forever be some weight of shame and guilt on his shoulders. Even now, Rumpel closed his eyes and his normally placid expression twisted in pain. "Why did you tell him that story?"

Bae withdrew his hand from the wheel and stuffied it deep in his pocket. There was a wall between them tonight.

"You regaining your power as the Dark One...it made me remember the last time you had magic and where it left me. I don't want this magic to go to your head again. I don't want you to leave Emma, Henry, and the girls in a worse place than you left me," he said with a heavy heart. He could tell by the pinch to his father's face that every word stung. Finally, Rumpel opened his eyes to behold his son, looking quite regretful.

"I won't make the same mistake. Emma and I will help each other to control our magic, just as we will help Isabelle cope with hers. I will use my magic only if absolutely necessary," he vowed, splaying his hands in the air.

Bae looked at his father's hands-human hands-only to remain suspicious about the magic that awaited at the tips of his fingers. He doubted his father would resist using his magic for long when it was so easy for him to be consumed by it. The temptation would always be there.

"How exactly will you do that? When you became the Dark One, you used magic for everything, big and small, because that was the easiest thing to do. What's stopping you now? Is Emma going to kick you out of your bed every time you slip and rely on magic?"

Rumpel's expression turned grave.

"You're right, Bae. You have always been. It's easy to succumb to magic, hard to resist it. I know I will have to try or I will lose someone else I care for. That is why...I want to give you this."

Rumpel reached into his vest and pulled out a shiny, slender object. Even without bringing it into the light, it was impossible for Bae not to recognize the dagger when it had been linked to his father's curse since the beginning. Rumpel's fingers held the dagger by the tip of the blade and the very end of the handle, presenting it to Bae with his name clearly visible on the blade.

Up until then, Bae sincerely hoped it wasn't true that his father was the Dark One again, that there was another explanation for his magic, but the proof was there under his nose.

"Papa..." He moaned. Try as he might, he couldn't rip his eyes from the dagger. How was he supposed to explain to his father that he didn't want anything to do with it? But his father's eyes pleaded with him.

"Bae, please. Do me this one favor and take it. Before the influence of the Dark One can prevent me from parting with it. Carry it far away from here. Bury it deep within the soil of our homeland, where even I will not reach it. I would have handed it over to Emma, but with it being so close, I might not be able to resist taking it back. Every one of my remaining enemies will search for it and they will most likely start here, not in the village where I was once labeled a coward."

He held the dagger out, inviting Bae to take it. Bae's fingers reluctantly wrapped around the handle and he relinquished it from his father's possession. Once it was free of Rumpel's hands, the air around his body shimmered as the power of the dagger was transferred to Bae.

_It's for his own good, _he thought, but it made him sick to his stomach to be in control of his own father.

"Mind if I test it out?" His father thrived on wordplay and clever tricks. He could easily supply a fake dagger to ease Bae's worries about his use of magic. He wasn't taking chances.

Rumpel geuninely looked hurt.

"You think I would deceive you by giving you a fake dagger?" Bae shrugged apologetically. It sounded like something Rumpelstiltskin, the trickster, would do. He kept a firm grip on the dagger.

"You're practically an addict, Papa," Bae pointed out. "Would you trust a raging alcoholic to surrender every ounce of his booze when he promises to go to rehab?" Rumpel scrunched his nose. Apparently he didn't enjoy being compared to an alcoholic, but it was true that magic was one of his vulnerabilities. He waved Bae on impatiently.

"Do what you have to do, then," he barked, bracing himself for the worst. Bae considered his options. He needed to prove that his father was under the influence of the dagger in his hand. Should he command him to take a step forward? No, that was too simple. Should he command him to spin straw into gold this instant? No, it had to be something his father wouldn't naturally do, something that wouldn't harm him...

"Um...alright...Dark One...I command you to...put your right foot in." Rumpel's leg instantly jerked forward, much to his dismay. "Now put your right foot out." Rumpel drew his leg back. Bae couldn't help but bite his tongue to quell his laughter. No one had ever witnessed the Dark One do the Hokey-Pokey before. "Now put your right foot in and shake it all about."

Back and forth Rumpel swayed, looking like a very disgruntled man all the while. He wiggled his foot in the air and almost fell over from losing his balance.

"Bae, this isn't amusing," his father complained, still wiggling his ankle. Bae never gave the command to stop, so he was forced to dance on.

"Depends on your perspective," Bae replied, his voice cracking with a giggle. Rumpel scowled and gripped the edge of the wheel to keep his balance while his leg shook.

"What will you have me do next? The Macarena?" Bae figured his father had given him enough proof of the dagger's power. He ordered him to stop and Rumpel slumped against the wheel, breathless from the exertion. Bae slid the dagger into his coat, for safekeeping.

"Sorry, Papa. I just needed to know you were serious about handing me the dagger," he explained and reached out to take his father's hand. Rumpel nodded once, understandingly. If the tables were turned, he would have done the same. "I'll hide the dagger. I'll make sure no one finds it. And about that story...it was only a way for me to vent. Just because I forgive you doesn't mean I can forget it ever happened."

"So tell me," his father suggested. Bae was surprised by the gesture. How long had it been since he truly opened up to his father? How long had it been since he spoke to that human side of him and not the Dark One? He felt like a boy again, turning to his gentle father for silent support.

"Okay," he agreed. His hand grazed the wheel again. "Can you spin while I talk? I miss that." He missed the rhythmic creaking of the wheel while his father listened patiently to every word he said. Rumpel smiled and sat down at the wheel.

"Of course." He started to spin. In no time at all, Bae began to see the straw glimmer as it pooled into gold. That wasn't exactly what he meant.

"Can you spin...like you used to?" The wheel stopped.

"Without the gold?" Bae nodded. "You miss the life we had," his father mused. Bae sank down onto a stool and shrugged.

"It's nothing new. I missed it ever since things changed. Sorry." It was a painful memory to linger over. Slowly the wheel started to spin again, but the straw did not glimmer with gold. Bae's nerves were soothed by the creaking of the wheel, just as he had been when he was a boy.

"It's alright," Rumpel assured him. "I'll spin like I used to. You're comfortable? Living in our old village?" Bae knew the purpose of this inquiry was to make sure he was happy.

"Yes," he said confidently. He was able to build a normal, stable life with Ariel in the part of the Enchanted Forest he knew best. "That's the home I remember. Not castles, carriages, and dining tables that require you to shout to have someone pass the salt." Rumpel chuckled at that. The tension around them was beginning to ease. "About that story..."

Bae told him everything while his father quietly spun at the wheel. He told him about passing through the portal, about wandering the streets in a world without magic, of Neverland and Pan and being homesick. Rumpel never interrupted, though his face darkened more than once. Bae talked until there was nothing left to say.

Until there was nothing left but the creaking of the wheel.

...


End file.
